A Dirty Secret Between Friends

That couldn't really be him. Could it?

She peered into the screen, examining his face. It

was

him. That much was unmistakable. But her disbelief was just as strong. Maybe it was just somebody who looked a lot

like

him. That happened quite often for her -- she'd be making her way across the campus when she'd catch a glimpse of what might have been him from the corner of her eye, only to be smacked with the disappointing sight of a lookalike stranger.

But it sure

looked

a lot like him. And as she scrolled through his bio, the puzzle pieces kept coming together. He

was

an architect major. And he

was

interested in robotics, just as his description mentioned. She'd seen the background of the profile picture on campus, and... alright, yeah. His username was "

FirstMan97".

It was a bit on the nose, but it was clever enough. That was Adam.

That was absolutely Adam.

Her phone's buzzer went off beside her, and she instinctively tabbed out of Fetlife. Upon recognizing the source of the interruption, she clenched her eyes shut in embarrassment. Just to provide herself with the much-needed reassurance, she glanced backwards, and triple checked the lock on her door.

Still locked. Still safe. No roommates. No embarrassment. Deep breaths, Claire. Calm.

She got up and stretched, still mulling over this profile. As she turned her head to the left, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection. Though she didn't look awful, she frequently struggled to convince herself otherwise. Short. No, petite was the positive word for it. Plus-sized, perhaps, but not to an unhealthy degree. She was especially proud of her hair, there was that. It curled down her back, and across her shoulders. At least she looked cute in glasses. Or so she was told.

She looked back at Adam, smiling in the profile picture. He was tall, lanky even, but not wiry. Short hair, always upbeat. Always friendly, always there for her. And that was a streak he hadn't broken with her in years.

There was no way she could let an opportunity like this slip. But it was just so much.

What if things went wrong? What if she lost him forever? That one friend that'd been with her for a major fraction of her life?

Conflicting that part of her mind were her needs. Although she'd done her best at keeping them hidden, she was desperate for that kind of treatment. She'd figured that much out rather early on in life, even before she'd learned what sex was. There was just something incredibly enticing about being absolutely dominated. And through the various relationships she'd had in high school and college, none of them measured up to that special feeling she'd fantasize over. None of them left her fulfilled.

Fuck it,

she thought to herself, and rattled out a message to him.

"Hey there! You wouldn't happen to be a student at the University of Upland, would you?"

The impulse was met with regret.

Oh God, what've I done,

she thought, staring at the words.

It's alright. Maybe it'll work out. Or maybe he'll just ignore it, and that'll be that.

Much to her combined delight and horror, he messaged her right back.

"Hey there! As a matter of fact, I do. How'd you figure?"

Alright. Be cool, she thought to herself. He might catch on if you talk like you normally do. Be careful.

"I'm another student on campus. I pass by that exact location in your profile on the daily."

"Hey. That's cool. Glad to hear that somewhere on this campus there are at least a *few* kinky people."

She started grinning like an idiot. She couldn't believe she was talking to Adam, the Adam she'd known since high school, like this.

"Think you're available to talk sometime? Maybe over a cup of coffee?"

"Hmmm. I'm not 100% sure yet. I have no idea what architecture will throw at me."

"That's fair. Maybe we'll aim for the weekend."

"Do u have any pics of you? Specifically, your face?"

She froze up. Her heart stopped. Even if she summoned the courage to be able to show her own identity like this, doing so might let the cat out of the bag prematurely. She took a deep breath and considered her response.

"Maybe later. I'm a bit shy, and it's getting late now. Talk with you tomorrow?"

"That's understandable. Sweet dreams?"

"You too!"

She closed her laptop and jumped into bed. Her eyes wide open, body tense and mind racing, she wondered how this chapter of her life was going to unfold.

"So how's

your

life been as of late?"

As she poked the question at Adam, she couldn't help but veer a little closer, bumping his shoulder, just to add emphasis to the query. He smirked, but hardly noticed. Overall, it was just another routine conversation between friends. The sort of thing they'd do nearly every other day on campus. Dinner together, talk about life, and head back to their dorms for the evening.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Architecture's still a bitch. I think the professors are doing their very best to try to weed out those who'd otherwise be halfhearted about their major. It's no picnic."

She nodded with enthusiasm, staring up at him as they made their way to their dorms together. She wasn't just humoring him, either: more often than not, he could talk about almost anything in a way that'd make it a captivating topic. On those rare occasions when he'd start droning on about something that was just too alien for her to find any interest in, she wasn't ever shy about telling him, either. They'd known each other for years. They were comfortable with it.

A moment of stupid bravery crossed her mind. She thought about it and turned her eyes upwards towards him again.

"Done anything adventurous lately? A search for something to break the monotony?" It was

absolutely

a loaded question, and she knew it -- but she just couldn't help herself.

Adam went silent., lost in thought. He started stroking his chin in his fingertips as he walked alongside her. She fought to keep her stride stable while her heart stopped dead in her chest. She felt the back of her throat go dry, filling with the taste of dread.

"Hm. No, not really. Can't say there's much of anything new under the sun."

God dammit.

She sighed quietly under her breath. He was

so

close.

"What about you?"

She tensed up. In her own shortsightedness, she'd entirely neglected how easy it'd be for him to reflect the question back at her.

"Oh, u-uhm..." she stuttered, her mind racing, as it struggled to come up with a valid response. "N-nothing much new for me either! Sorry."

He hardly noticed her response, though -- too lost in thought. "I dunno. Maybe we ought to do more with our friend group. There are events happening around and outside of campus all the time."

"Sure! Yeah, that sounds nice."

They came to the front door of his dorm building. He stopped, and she almost kept walking.

Oh well -- at least she had an excuse for her bright red cheeks.

"I wouldn't mind that at all, you know," he said with a warm smile on his face, gazing into her eyes. "You really are an awesome friend. I'm glad we've managed to stay together like this. I haven't had many people stay with me for this long, you know?"

She gave a polite nod and a smile. "You too! Talk with you tomorrow?" He nodded back, and just like that, he was gone.

It took her every ounce of her willpower not to simultaneously melt and burst into tears. But she somehow managed. She continued down the path to her building, carrying with her the odd mix of emotions.

But things could change. They

would

change.

She'd make sure of it.

"You know, I wouldn't mind meeting up to talk it over with another like-minded individual. Any favorite places nearby you wouldn't mind meeting at?"

She stared at the words on-screen, her fingers interlocked. A pit grew in her stomach as she read them over and over. No turning back now.

His reply didn't take long to deliver.

"Sure. How often to you frequent the dining hall? Does that work? Maybe a nearby coffee shop?"

She got to work writing the reply. "Almost daily. You free on the weekend? Care to grab breakfast there, around ten?"

"Sounds good. Just so that I have some way to pick you out from the crowd -- do you still have that lace collar, depicted in your profile image?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Why?"

"Why don't you wear it tomorrow? I'll look for the girl with the black lace, and you'll look for the boy wearing black leather gloves. That sound fair?"

"Sounds like a plan to me, mister boss man."

"Oh, shush, you."

Claire stood at the entrance of the dining hall. Adam sat before her, facing away, staring out the window.

And she just couldn't bring herself to walk over and talk to him.

She felt everything at once -- as though she were suddenly in the middle of a cold blizzard. A chill that made you painfully aware of every sensation on the skin. She felt the black lace choker tied about her neck. She felt the slight tremble of her legs beneath her.

Take a deep breath, she told herself. She did. Her vision still went a little fuzzy and blurry. It was just all so much.

Just do it. Now.

She forced a leg forward. Then another.

Don't think about it

, she told herself.

After what seemed like a short eternity of progressive strides, she found herself at the table. She made herself pull up a chair and sit down.

"Hi there, Adam! How's your morning been?" She had no idea where the words came from, but she was grateful that -- for just once in her life -- they'd emerged without stutter or mishap.

Adam's eyes darted up to meet hers, and an inviting smile spread across his face. "Oh! Hey, Claire! It's been alright. Dunno if I can talk long, I'll be meeting some-" His eyes drifted to the choker adoring her neck, and his eyes widened. "Oh..."

Claire offered a nervous smile, her eyes falling, her cheeks burning a bright red.

It didn't take long before she was absolutely violated.

After the shock had worn off, and he had expressed his disbelief, he had gotten up from his chair, paced around a little bit, and turned back to the table. He scooped her up out of her chair and hugged her tight.

And it was the best feeling she'd felt in her entire life.

It was the sort of hug that left her feeling completely

wanted.

A squeeze of excitement. Of acceptance. One where he leaned his head on top of hers, and she buried her face against his chest.

From there, she didn't remember much of the conversation -- only the feelings. In fact, if they hadn't started writing it down on a spare napkin together, she probably wouldn't have remembering a single thought from the conversation. She was too lost, too overwhelmed in the moment. She remembered going over what she wanted, and what he wanted, but most of all, just kind of gazing into his eyes with the warmest of smiles. At one point, he took notice, and he smiled right back at her, and placed his hand over hers.

"You're under no obligation to just completely agree with me, Claire. It's okay to list off the matters you're apprehensive about. I won't fault you for it."

"...Sorry?" she said, snapping back to the world again.

"We'll, you've been doing nothing but agree with me for the last four minutes."

She remembered turning a bright red, squeezing her eyes shut, and blurting out a profuse apology. He'd laughed, pulled her close, and said some reassuring words while he ran his fingers through her hair. And that made it all better.

So

much better.

And just like that -- that very afternoon -- he'd whisked her away.

He'd asked her if it was alright, if that's what she wanted, and it didn't take much thinking for her to say yes. Maybe she was just a little bit too eager, because he gave off that evil little smirk of his and made her beg. She'd looked down, hands in her lap, acutely aware of the people around her, and whimpered. Barely a squeak, but a plea, nonetheless. Worse still, he made her plea and beg like that until he was satisfied.

And so he took her by her hand, brought her to her feet, held her close, and led her away to his dorm.

No sooner had he closed the door behind them, then he had asked her to strip, right then and there -- save for her collar and the black stockings she'd worn that day.

And she obeyed. Just like a good girl ought to.

She wanted nothing more.

And so, he violated her. In every possible way, however she might have desired, in every way she wanted but might have previously been too afraid to ask for. He tied her down. Forced her down to her knees. Hauled her over his own lap and spanked her until her ass was bright red. He fucked her, ravaged her. He'd slapped her around. He'd kissed her lips nice and deep. Called her every horrible, shameful name she ever dreamed of hearing his voice call her. Called her every sweet, adorable little title she'd ever dreamed of hearing him say in her company.

He held her close. And he fucked her hard.

He fucked her until she was reduced to a quivering mess on the floor, his cum seeping out of each of her holes, running down each of her curves -- across her breasts and her thighs, down her cheeks, down her neck. He fucked her up until she was gasping and sore and covered with bruises and scratches and red marks from the flogger, the crop, or even his own rough hands.

And then, just to finish it all up, just as a little signature on the work he'd done to her, he'd pressed the sole of his boot against the back of her neck and twisted it a little bit. Pushing the side of her face against the floor.

In the haze, she didn't remember many of the specific details from their conversations that day. But if there was ever any one thing that had stuck with her from that day forward, it was what he'd said to her in that very moment.

"Look at yourself, Claire. A disgusting little

whore.

But best of all, you're

my

whore now."

He leaned down and placed his lips right next to her ear, whispering just enough to be heard over her breaths.

"And I wouldn't want it any other way."

When they'd had their fun, he scooped her up from the floor, holding her like a princess, and carried her over to the bathroom. With a delicate grace and a loving smile, he removed her stockings and collar, and undressed himself as best he could without letting go of her. He ordered her to wash him off, and she did as best she could with trembling hands. Once she'd finished, he returned the favor, bathing every square inch of her with reverence, as though she were his own personal treasure. Once he'd finished, he just sat there in the tub, holding her close, nuzzling her hair, and kissing her cheeks. She kissed him back just as much. Time stood still, if not just for a little while.

After he'd dried her off and carried her back to his couch, he offered to make her some tea, maybe a plate of cookies with it.

"I'd like nothing more. But I'm honestly torn -- I don't want you to leave me."

He couldn't help but giggle a little. "I'll only be just a moment, alright?"

They'd had a bit of a playful argument over it, until she conceded. It still didn't stop her from getting up and giving him a surprise hug from behind, about halfway through the process.

Nonetheless, they found themselves, at last, resting on the couch, cuddled close, their mugs in hand. A quiet moment at last, with no foreseeable future obligations. Rest.

Eventually, she broke the quiet. "So, Adam.... Does that mean we're a thing now?"

"I'd like that, I think. You're a wonderful person, Claire. I've known you for years now. I trust you. And even if things fall through between us, I won't think any less of you for it."

She closed her eyes and nuzzled up against his chest. "Yeah. I feel the same. Just wanted to make sure."

"Promise me you'll be honest with me? Let me know if I'm overstepping my bounds?"

"Yes, Master."

Though she couldn't see it, she could feel his smile as he pet her hair and held her closer.

"That's my good girl~"