The Word

Mya Waters

Mar 7th 2021

THE WORD

Disclaimer: This is an assignment meant only for the eyes of Professor Glasnor. Revealing the contents of this essay to any other person would be a violation of my student rights and a clear violation of the ethics board. The disclosed information is meant to be used only for the purpose of the assignment and should be shred once graded.

Spring break was so close we could almost taste it. Half the dorm could probably actually taste it already, since plenty of the rooms had already packed up and skipped our the last psych class, but there I sat, like the little, perfect, stuck up girl that I was.

Ok, spring break might be a bit dramatic. We weren't that lucky to get an entire week but a long weekend was second best. With mild anxiousness I sat, a firm grip on my pencil as I scratched notes ferociously about some failed mind experiment that I can't even remember at this point not even a week later.

The clock over the professors head read 2:48, and I already saw other students packing up. The professor had wound down already and it seemed he might actually let us out ten minutes early. So you can imagine our thoughts when he announced he had a vacation assignment for us. What kind of teacher would assign an essay over our extended weekend?! Luckily for him, he expanded on his assignment and explained it was completely optional. The moment that word flew out his mouth the kids who just a moment ago looked like they might pounce and attack were now slinging bags over their shoulders and heading for the back exit doors. The rest of the class fell silent attempting to figure out why anyone would subject themselves to an optional assignment over a brief vacation, but as if the professor could read the room perfectly he announced, "The assignment is simple. Pair up with a partner. I will give one of you a random word. Your partner will have precisely 96 hours to figure out the word. If they are able to obtain the word they may submit it to me before the deadline and will receive a 100 score to replace their lowest quiz value for the semester. On the other hand, if they do not obtain the word, the person who held out will receive the 100 instead."

This opportunity sounded perfect. For the last few weeks I've been haunted by the one assignment that got away and was going to be the difference between an A- and an A. Irrelevant to some, but my GPA average was more than just a measurement of my intelligence. It was also a scale to determine if my parents would continue to fund my college experience, and more importantly I often felt my GPA was synchronistic with their love for me.

"Furthermore," the professor continued, "The partner who fails by either giving up the word or not obtaining it, may also get the 100 score replacement, although it will take a bit more work. They will need to submit an essay documenting their experience and highlighting all the key circumstances that effected what happened." He continued on with something about how this experiment is similar to ones practiced in hostage situations where they need intel, explaining the rules of warfare synonymously. Partners can harass, play pranks, trick them, etc but is obviously not allowed to starve their partner, perform sleep deprivation, blah blah blah. This was all the obvious stuff, I always skipped over anyways. The useless filler, or so I thought, but it didn't matter. Bevin and I had already made eye contact confirming in an unspoken bound that we were partners, and just minutes later the professor was handing me an index card face down. Turning it slowly I got my word, 'whimsical.'

Obviously since I'm writing this you already know he was able to get the word from me, but it's not that simple, and the journey up to that point is something I'm both afraid and somewhat excited to relive.

Day 1

On our walk back to the dorms Bevin started in almost instantly with some kind of weird, half-thought together scheme. "Just tell me the word now, pump out a fake essay of how I got it from you in the next hour, and boom we don't have to worry about it all week."

I don't think he caught how unfair that was to me until I turned it around and said he should just write an essay now describing how he tried already and couldn't break me. "Ok, ok fine. We'll do this the fun way." We both laughed and continued on. We had been friends for so long and told each other everything, that for some reason this silly little game kind of seemed perfect for the vacation.

He had came to me when he had the struggle of coming out to his parents. They took it well for the most part, but I could tell he had trouble explaining it. On some level, he expressed he had some small curiosity with females, which only added to his own confusion, but had always leaned towards his flamboyant side which showed more often than not nowadays. Regardless, I had always promised to be there for him, and he promised the same, locking pinkies with me in the same moment.

He had been there when I came home late crying, sobbing out of stupidity because I had lost my virginity in the worst way possible. My first time drinking at a house party, someone who I still don't even know his name asked me to come lay down and me being stupid enough to do it. I was tired, that's all. I really thought we were just going to lay down. Talk about the day, our pasts, whatever, it didn't matter. I wasn't being a whore, like so many people have said, but at the same time when I had him pressed up against me spooning and I could feel his shaft getting more and more rigid, something different, something not me took over, and the next thing I knew I was naked from the waist down, suddenly on my knees straddling him. His pants were unzipped and his thick cock stood perturbing upwards as if waiting for me.

Everything I had thought and prepared for this moment was instantly gone. I could feel the moisture running down my thighs from anticipation. I was no longer scared of the moment, I needed it more than ever, so when he pulled me just a little closer, I knew it was time and slowly sat down on him. He reached down positioning himself perfectly with me and as I pushed with the slightest force, I felt an explosion of emotion as the tip filled me. It hurt for a burning instant but before I could react he had my hips simultaneously pulling me down as he thrust himself deeper. One jerking motion after another I sat there frigid, letting him pump in and out of me over and over. I wanted it to stop but couldn't find the strength to say it. Silently, I hoped he would see the frantic disturbed look on my face and realize for himself that this hurt, that I couldn't keep going. He didn't. Instead he somehow flipped me over so my back was to the bed without ever letting his cock slip out of me. Suddenly ripping my legs wider open, he went even harder, and it suddenly clicked what was going to happen. I felt his dick grow somehow stiffer with expectation and begin to pulse, and I instantly realized we hadn't even used a condom.

'No,' my shrill squeak of protest meant nothing to him as he held himself as deep inside as he could ready to fill me with cum. In a final despite act I got a foot on his shoulder and pushed hard enough that his dick tore out of me precisely as he came, shooting tendrils of white, frothy ejaculate onto my stomach. My tears had started even before he gave his final message that still echoes today, 'Jesus you psycho. And to think, I was gunna let me boys have a turn with how good you were handling it.'

That's a story that I'm not proud of and wouldn't typically tell, but I say it for two reasons. One, it's nothing compared to what I've now experienced, and two, I wanted to really show the level of trust Bevin and I share. So, the next series of events, although weird, didn't immediate signal red flags to me. They didn't bother me like they would have if I were with anyone else.

When we finally got back to his dorm, he had finally slowed down on asking me the code word for now. All his roommates were already packed and had left hours earlier. Bevin told me he was going to go pack quick so I sat in one of those stupid wooden dinner table chairs waiting for him, figuring I could at least keep him company, as I had no impending plans past a nice relaxing vacation with an entire dorm to myself. While I waited I pulled out my phone. Cam, another boy in my class, had recently made it his life mission to either sleep with me or die trying, and honestly I was starting to enjoy his attempts. His text slid onto the screen, 'wat u wearing?'

'Wouldn't you like to know...' For some reason I still don't understand (Maybe you could teach a class on this?), playing hard to get is so much more fun than just giving in. The build of excitement, of tension, I don't know, it's more enticing than the act itself.

'Send another pic like u did the other nite?'

Just then before I could even think of a snappy reply I felt a hand take mine sliding it in between the bars of the chair and heard a distinct click. "Handcuffs? Seriously Bevin," I said turning back towards him.

"Yup," he accented his silly grin with a flip of his curly hair. "You're under my control until I get that password out of you."

"Oh ok master," I joked as I put my phone down and reached my other hand back, "Shouldn't you get this hand too?"

Click*

"Jesus you're serious aren't you?"

He laughed quickly and nodded. "So, you gonna tell me?"

"No way, gunna have to try way harder. Plus the pink fuzz makes these kind of comfy. Can you at least pull me over to the living room to watch a movie?"

Once again he either didn't catch on that I was joking or didn't care, because the next thing I knew we were halfway through some comic superhero movie and he had made a game out of throwing popcorn at me as I tried desperately to catch it in my mouth. We ended up laughing uncontrollably and much more than I would have ever thought a person held captive could. I love the friendship we had. At one point I was almost crying from laughing so hard and had to cross my legs. "Bevin." I giggled trying to get him to notice my need.

"Now how do I know you won't try to escape?"

"I swear I won't attempt anything, just need to use the bathroom. If I'm lying I'll give you the password and you know my word is binding!"

Reluctantly he uncuffed me and lead me to the bathroom refusing me to even grab my phone on the way, using the phrase 'That's my property now.'

The rest of the night was uneventful. He kept pestering me for the code, knowing I wouldn't answer anyways, until he finally told me it was bedtime and led me down the hall.

"Sleepover," he exclaimed laying me down in his bed and handcuffing one hand to the headboard.

It was uncomfortable but not terrible. There was just enough give that I could curl up like normal. "Can I ask one favor before you leave master?" He nodded, "Jeans are super uncomfortable to sleep in."

"Well, for one I'm not leaving. I have to keep an eye on my prisoner," he laughed as he walked over. He reached down to undo the button and unzip my jeans apparently unaware that I had already done that with my free hand and was attempting to wiggle out. His hand felt like ice as it scraped my skin before sliding over my undies. This was the first moment I began feeling uncomfortable. Even though he apologized for touching that area and said it was an accident, it somehow felt intentional all the same. So once my pants were off, and I felt completely exposed and a bit nervous, I curled into a ball. Moments later, the lights flicked off, and I felt him crawl in beside me. His heavy breathes a few moments later relaxed me, my anxiety seeping away without a trace.

To this day, I'm still unsure if I dreamt this part, but I feel obligated to include it none the less. At some point in the night I woke up, eyes too heavy to hold open and so groggy I could pass out again at any moment. But why was I awake? I couldn't recall any loud noises or other external stimuli and as I searched my weary mind for a reason I should be awake, I became mildly aware that something felt different. Bevin lay perfectly still spooned against me like he had been all night, the handcuff still held me tightly in place, but something had my attention under the covers because pressed up against me I could feel his steely erection. One instinct screamed for me to shift over and away so that his cock was no longer rubbing against my ass, but another force somehow more convincing than my initial thoughts of getting away instructed me to do the opposite. All but forcing me to rub up against it, to feel every inch slide between my cheeks. Even with underwear on I was sure it would feel amazing touching every spot I knew it shouldn't. And yet I remember no more. I have no recollection of doing either of those actions, so I've nearly convinced myself it was just a dream. This explanation would make the most sense since I had never, up until that moment, thought of Bevin in anyway sexually whatsoever.

Day 2

The morning light filtering through the blinds made what looked like bars across the wall, like a cheap trick to remind me of my prison. "Good morning," he exclaimed unhooking the handcuff and giving me a moment to rub my wrist. "Ready to tell me the code?"

"Why would I? I get to spend a few days with my best friend. I'm not giving that up."

"I didn't think so, but it was worth a try. Let's get you out to the common area, and I'll get breakfast going." He began pulling me right away.

"Can I at least get my pants on and go to the bathroom first?"

"Gunna tell me the code?"

"Nope."

"Ok then, no from me as well."

"Seriously Bevin, what if your roommates come back?"

"They're gone for the weekend. You really just have to worry about the embarrassment from me."

Unimpressed I went with him to the kitchen. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but he'd seen me like this before, and at least these underwear weren't revealing at all. My comfort panties as I called them. Somehow through the shock of what he was forcing me into I forgot my need to use the bathroom until breakfast was done, and I was just finishing the glass of orange juice he had poured me.

"Can I please use the bathroom now?" I suddenly felt as though I was begging for basic human necessities. Had I lost my strength already? I had already decided I was going to hold out no matter what. Only a couple days and I'd have that bonus grade I needed so badly.

"What's the word?"

I mimed zipping my lips and he simply shrugged and walked away flipping on the tv.

"For real. I really need to go."

"Guess you're either going to pee there or give me the code then." He said it in a joking manner like he always did, but I was already beginning to see he was being serious and wasn't going to stop until he got the word. I attempted to distract myself and grabbed my phone, slightly eager to see what Cam had said after being ignored for this long. Two messages were waiting, one from last night begging for the picture he had previously asked for and another this morning apologizing if I was upset. Ever the tease, I replied telling him I had just been busy and promised him he would get a picture tonight if I had the chance. My only requirement was he had to describe the exact position he wanted me in. Sealing it with a winky and kissy face I looked back at Bevin.

"I really have to go."

He looked over expectantly, but when he saw I still wasn't budging he turned back to the television.

The anger flared in me for a moment. You wanna play hard ball motherfucker? You got it, and without another thought I relaxed and felt the urine begin soaking through my panties. The warm, sticky feeling was far from pleasant to feel pooling between my thighs and running down my legs, but his face as he turned to the splattering as it hit the floor was worth every drop.

"Oh my god, did you seriously..."

I cut him off quickly. "I told you I had to go!"

"Come on," he sighed as he got up coming towards me, "let's get you cleaned up."

Uncuffing me I felt a surge of relief, if only for a few minutes at least I'd have my freedom back in the bathroom, but to my surprise, the moment my hands were free from the chair he slipped the cuff back on locking my hands behind my back. My sticky wet thighs chaffed uncomfortably as he walked me into the bathroom closing the door behind us.

"Bevin! Can I please get a little privacy?" I tried to keep my tone nice but was beginning to get very perturbed.

"Oh come on Mya, not like I haven't seen you before."

"You've never seen me naked!" I almost shouted it turning towards him.

He mockingly blew a puff of air out. "I've seen you in just panties more times than I can count. Still gayyyyy," he elongated the word mocking me again, "Don't think that tiny cloth you normally wear is going to change that."

He did have a point. Since this whole thing started I had been quite strict and nervous, and honestly forgot how much I trusted him, and yet something else still held me back. An odd feeling that I couldn't pinpoint, and at this point I can honestly say it must be the same thing animals feel when they know they're being hunted but can't identify where the danger is. "Well maybe I don't want to take that chance. Plus I only let men I truly trust see down there."

His laugh echoed throughout the room. "Did you forget, you tell me everything? You ain't hiding no virgin mystery there. I already know about your adventurous side. Men who have only known you for 5 minutes have seen more of you than I have."

"Hey!" He may have been right but I didn't need to hear it. I'm not always proud of my past but sometimes I think those mistakes were good lessons for me to learn.

Suddenly, in a blur of motion his lumbering hands pulled my piss soaked panties down and they fell to the ground. "There now I've seen it. We don't have to worry about this anymore."

I wanted desperately to cover myself but with bound hands, I realized I couldn't. The shock of the moment held me from saying anything except for a small pipsqueak of a voice that muttered defeatedly, "Can I please shower?"

After running back out for the key and letting me finish undressing, I hopped into the shower. He sat on the toilet waiting. I seriously couldn't get a single moment to myself, and for a moment I thought about just telling him the word. Writing an essay couldn't be worse than this.

"Oh my god!" He exclaimed. I refused to feed into whatever he was trying now, I just wanted to relax for a moment. "Cam just messaged you." I froze. I remember thinking there's no way he had the gall to go through my phone too. "He says 'laid back, legs spread, one hand spreading your lips apart and the other cupping a breast as you lay back in ecstasy.'

"Bevin! This is going too far!"

The defense flew into his voice as if he didn't expect me to react, "Tell me the code then!"

"No," the anger flooded my face as I whipped off the water and stepped out, no longer caring that he could see me naked. "I... I can't believe," I was at a loss for words and didn't even bother to finish. As quickly as the fight in me had grown, it escaped just as fast as I saw he wasn't backing down.

"Come on!" His voice was suddenly so forceful and commanding that I followed him obediently down the hall, half assed covering myself the best I could. "Lay down, we're taking Cam his picture that you promised him!" The bite in his voice was still so much that I did exactly that and laid down on the bed. "On your back!" I rolled, knowing exactly what was next but refusing to do it yet. "Spread your legs! Don't make me walk you through every step." As if under no control of my own, my legs spread and I reached down barely touching my pussy. My eyes welled with tears that I refused to let fall. "Other hand on your tit..." I did as he commanded and heard the faint shutter sound from my phone. My heart pounded. Everything had suddenly changed, and I didn't know how to handle it. The actual thought of 'do I hate Bevin?' actually crossed my mind, but before I could answer it, I heard him walk closer. Another shutter snap sound effect, then another, then I felt his hand between my legs.