College Coquette

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Candlelight flickered and danced on the merlot-colored walls. It played over velvet draperies and heavy furniture, casting ominous shadows she couldn't see.

For tonight, he had pulled back one of the curtains, revealing a series of large rings he had drilled into the wall. Against her better judgment, Brooke had been blindfolded and was tied to the rings, spread-eagle more or less, with sturdy clothesline. Clothesline, you might wonder? Yes, ordinary cotton clothesline. It fit his college student budget, was easily available, and strong enough to withstand any resistance from a reluctant protégé. It also cut easily in case of an emergency.

How had she ended up here, tied to his wall? He smiled at the thought. It was so unbelievably easy. She was a Southern sorority girl, born and raised to please. Granted, he didn't think her daddy would be pleased if he saw his baby girl right now, but being a good old boy from Alabama, he had to know that eventually his daughter would be pleasing a man in private. And young Brooke here was learning quite well how to please a man, even if she was somewhat reluctant to try new things.

She whimpered, only able to imagine what he was doing as he opened drawers and laid out the toys he planned to play with over the course of the evening. A fine sheen of sweat glistened in the low light, giving her body a watercolor painting effect. She was quite a sight to behold, and he was glad he had a digital camera. Technology had certainly done wonders for his hobby. Gone were the days of having to set up a makeshift darkroom in his tiny bathroom or using the school's darkroom at 3 a.m. to develop pictures of his students and their lessons.

He crossed the room in a few strides and whispered in her ear. "Brooke, darling, tonight you are in for quite a treat. Remember that story you wrote, the one you printed in the computer lab the evening we met? The Master – that would be me – chains his slave to the wall – that would be you – and makes her beg to be touched. Do you remember that, my sweet?"

She strained against the ropes, but knew it was wasted effort. She wasn't going anywhere. He had grown up on the shore, and while other kids spent their summers at the country club playing tennis and lounging by the pool, he sailed. And an important part of sailing was learning to tie complicated and beautiful knots, knots which came in quite handy these days.

"Answer me, Brooke. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember," she whispered.

"And what happened to the slave in your story? When she begged to be touched?" He slowly ran his finger along the sensitive underside of her arm, which was stretched from her body. Her face was turned to the side, one cheek pressed against the cold cement wall.

"She...had to...she had to..."

"She had to what?"

"She had to endure ...the...the whip."

"And why did she have to be whipped? What was her reward?"

"For each touch from her Master, she had to be whipped first."

"Why do you think that was, Brooke?"

"I, I don't know..."

"Yes, you do know, Brooke. Tell me."

"The whip...brings....pain. But pain brings...pleasure." She choked the words out in a whisper.

"Are you afraid of the whip, Brooke?"

"Yes," she cried. "I don't want to be whipped. Please don't do this to me. I'll do anything else you ask, anything. Just please don't hurt me."

The desperation in her voice was amusing to him. Of course she didn't want to be whipped. She didn't want to wear the stripes, to bear the evidence of her time spent with him in secret. She was mortified at the thought that anyone might find out about her dark little secret.

And that was part of the hold he had on her. He never threatened her. Never said he'd use this against her. But she had to know it was a possibility. And she would rather die than have her sorority sisters find out that she was being taught to please That Guy in ways that would make them speechless. Not that he ever would. Tell, that is. Why would he? What would it accomplish? He never wanted to draw attention to himself. He didn't want to be stared at when he was on campus, didn't want people talking about him at parties. He'd experienced that at his previous school, and he transferred out as soon as the semester ended. But Brooke, well... He wasn't too worried about that happening with her. She wasn't about to tell anyone about their little secret. Her lessons were not something she wanted on the university grapevine. It would ruin her chances of wearing the Homecoming crown.

He picked up his whip, caressing the leather handle with his hand, feeling the carefully balanced weight of it in his palm. It had been custom-made for him by a friend in Italy, during the three months he spent abroad last year. With a practiced flick of his wrist, the whip cracked the silence next to her ear. She screamed at the sudden noise and the awareness of how close the whip had been to her pretty face.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear. "Did I scare you?"

She bit her lip, and he could see she was fighting the urge to tell him to go fuck himself.

"I really don't recommend screaming. It's unlikely anyone would hear you, and if they did, how would you explain that you wanted to be tied up like this?"

She twisted against the ropes again, bending her knees and stretching up on her toes, testing how much play the ropes allowed her.

"It's really quite useless, to struggle, you know. I know how to tie knots quite well, and I can assure you that you have been tied quite securely. Safety is of the utmost importance when playing, and if I were to allow you too much freedom, you might get hurt." As he finished speaking, the whip cracked and she felt a sharp sting on her side, right where her breast swelled away from her body.

"Ow!" she cried. "That HURT!"

"Hmm....why so it did. What would you like instead, Brooke?"

"Please, I don't want to do this. What I wrote wasn't really my fantasy. Please... Just untie me and we can do something else, whatever you want. Just please let me go-o-o-o..." A tear squeezed out from beneath the blindfold and left a wet trail on her flushed cheek.

"That tear is quite a nice touch, my dear. Hold that pose for me, will you?" He grabbed his camera and snapped a few photos, appreciating the contrast between shadows and the glistening tear trail which reflected the candlelight so well. These would be nice printed as black and whites, he thought. Very artistic.

"Are you photographing me?" She was scared, obviously. "What are you planning to do with those pictures?"

He laughed, enjoying her anxiety. "I'd like to remember this moment, Brooke. Long after you're gone. You look so beautiful, your body taught against the ropes, the tear on your cheek. But don't worry, my dear. I'll be the only one looking at these pictures. You can count on that. You see, I don't really like to share. That's why I live alone, down here in the bowels of the dorm. I don't have to share anything unless I choose to. And tonight, I'm going to enjoy not having to share you."

Another sharp crack of the whip caught the soft skin where her ass met her thighs. "Please," she begged. "Please stop."

"What do you want me to do, Brooke? This is your fantasy, not mine." He cracked the whip again on her ass.

"Please stop whipping me. I need you to touch me, with your hands, your mouth, anything but the whip. Please..." A river of tears flowed down her exposed cheek, and she was close to sobbing.

Was she really frightened? Did the whip really cause her pain bad enough to make her cry? No, the whip wasn't that bad – he'd made sure of that. He'd entertain the thought of fright, though. Having a fantasy was much different than actually experiencing the fantasy. But that didn't mean she wasn't turned on.

He stood beside her and turned the whip around in his hand. There was only one way to find out, wasn't there? Very, very slowly, and very, very carefully, he slid the handle of the whip inside her, and she gasped. Of course she would – it was heavily carved and quite thick. And even spread open the way she was, it would still fill her and stretch her, just like he planned to later. But he was getting ahead of himself.

"It's okay, Brooke," he said softly in her ear. "I'm just doing a little investigation to see what effect this has had on you so far. Don't worry. I'll be gentle."

He slowly slid the carved handle back out and held it up to the candlelight. It was shiny with her juices. She may be frightened, but she was definitely turned on in spite of her fright.

"Would you like a little more?" He had a hard time keeping the amusement out of his voice. It wasn't as though her answer really mattered, and she knew that. He would stop when he felt ready, and not a moment before. But it was time to up the ante.

He reached over to the side and picked up a vibrator, about 7" long with a realistic circumference, and switched it on before sliding it inside her. He continued to hold it as she first pulled away from the buzzing invader and then slowly sank back down on the pink plastic penis tickling her insides.

"That's it, sweet Brooke. Don't try to resist. Now I want you to hold on to this. I'm going to let go, and you need to keep it inside you. Do you understand?"

"But I can't...my hands..."

"You don't need your hands. You're a strong girl – you need to use your internal muscles to hold it. Pretend it's my cock inside you, that you want to keep me inside you no matter what. Now grip it. Hold it tight. Got it? I'm letting go now."

She tried really hard to hold on to it, but the vibrator clattered to the floor almost immediately. Either she was darn aroused and overly wet, or perhaps he had overestimated her muscle tone? It was certainly possible. And while he wasn't pleased, it was only her first attempt. He picked it up, wiped it off, and slid it back in. It certainly wasn't too heavy – others had been successful before her – so he knew he wasn't asking too much.

"I'm not going to tell you again. Hold it. Tight. And if you can manage to hold it until I remove it, I just might fuck that hot little cunt of yours tonight." He let go, and this time, she kept it in. He picked up a hairbrush this time, and began to spank her. With each swat, she wailed. It was music to his ears.

After a dozen swats, he stopped. His cock was aching, and he was sure her ass was aching too. He grabbed his camera and began to shoot, marveling at the way the candlelight reflected off her now-red cheeks. My God, she was beautiful like this, tied up and aroused, all for his enjoyment. There was just nothing quite like having a woman at your disposal. He tried to capture the flush of arousal he knew was lurking beneath the tear-streaked cheeks, the humming vibrator clearly wanting to slip out from between her swollen pussy lips, dripping with desire.

"How are you feeling, my pet?" His voice in her ear startled her, and nearly made her lose the concentration she needed to keep the toy firmly inside her.

"Please, please...I need you."

"But it's not about what you need, Brooke. It's about what I need."

"What do you need?"

"You should know that by now, Brooke. I need you. And I have you. I have all I need."

"Do you?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but the question was hard, and it made him think.

Did he really have all he needed? Well, yes and no. He had her, and she was willingly participating in his games. But he still hadn't fucked her. And he needed to fuck her. Fucking her would complete his possession of her. A woman never forgot being fucked by him. Sure, his cum would stop dripping from her cunt after awhile, but the mark left on her soul would be there forever. She would dream about him at night, she would fantasize about him while she shoved a big fat dildo in that tight little twat, trying to recreate what he felt like, spreading her and filling her as he used her for his pleasure.

She looked so...so...helpless, tied there this wall. Her ass cheeks were still rosy from the spanking, and tears had dried on her face. Her hips were bucking against the vibrator as she struggled to keep it inside her yet tried to get herself off at the same time. God, she was hot. He could just imagine what her little sorority sisters would say if they saw her now, looking like the little fuck slave she was. Well, becoming. She wasn't quite there yet. Close, but not yet.

His cock was jutting out of his satin robe now, his balls heavy and aching. He needed to fuck her, and soon. He began stroking himself, wanting to be even harder and bigger so that his entry into her would be something she'd remember for a long time.

"You've been a very good girl, Brooke. I'm going to take your blindfold off now. I want you to see how hard I am, how much you've turned me on by your participation in this little performance." He slipped the blindfold down around her neck and stood back so she could see his erection, the head of his cock almost purple in the low light.

"And now I'm going to slip that vibrator out and untie you." He eased the plastic phallus out of her dripping hole and set it aside. He'd clean it later, and have her take it home as a souvenir. She could fuck herself with it later, thinking of him and this evening. Maybe even while her roommates were sleeping, when she'd have to keep her moans locked inside her. Another little secret they'd share.

The knots were untied and her arms dropped like little anchors, her body sagging against the wall. He knelt to untie her feet and then buried his nose in her slit, enjoying a quick slurp of her juices and making her yelp. She was so ripe, so ready to cum that he didn't dare linger there, even though he'd certainly enjoy it. He wanted her to cum on his dick, wanted to feel her slippery insides milking him, squeezing the cum from his cock as he bathed her velvety tunnel with his liquid love.

He grabbed her hand and led her over to the futon, where she lay on her back, her hair fanned out behind her head like a halo. He grabbed her calves and pushed her legs back and out, spreading her wide open. Picture perfect. He grabbed the camera.

"Stay just like that, for just a moment." He snapped half a dozen shots, fiddling with zoom, but capturing this blissful moment, right before she was stuffed with his throbbing meat.

He leaned over, guiding his cock into her cunt, and she groaned, a deep guttural sound, as he pushed his way into her tight little hole. The vibrator hadn't stretched her out too much, and the combination of the pain and pleasure had made her slick with arousal. This was perfect, absolutely perfect. Inch by glorious inch, he slid deeper and deeper into her, moving as slowly as he could to draw out this first entry as long as possible. She was too exhausted to do anything but lay there, her arms numb and her legs under his control as he held them open, using them for balance as he watched his steel erection impale her soft pink pussy. As he reached bottom, her mouth fell open in a perfect little O as she felt the thick root of his cock spread her open even more. Yes, she would remember this for a very long time. She would yearn for this, would always be searching for one who could fill her like this, and she would never find him.

But enough being gentle and slow. She felt too damn good for that. He withdrew quickly and slammed himself home even faster. "Oh, yeah, fuck yeah," he moaned, as her cunt sucked him in and grudgingly released him again, only to suck him back in.

He pounded her hard, her perky little breasts bouncing to the beat of his balls against her sore ass. This was unbelievably good pussy. Best he'd had in awhile. And in spite of her tiredness, she was thrusting up to meet him, spreading her legs even wider for him, taking him in deeper. Her hands grabbed at the pillow behind her head, clutching and twisting the material as she got closer and closer to cumming.

"I bet you like it hard, don't you, Brooke. I bet you like me fucking your pussy like a freight train." She moaned what sounded like a yes, but he didn't really care. She was so into it, so fucking hot for him, so wet she was squishing with each thrust, and he was so close to cumming in that wet heat...so close...

He pulled out and turned her over, helping her balance on her knees and forearms, her upper body pressed against the mattress. Quickly he shoved his cock back into her cunt, thrusting once, twice, three times, pulling her ass cheeks apart to watch his cock disappear and reappear in that delicious pink of hers.

Her little asshole looked so enticing, though, that for a moment, he considered pulling out and finishing there, in the place he knew no one had ever been before. She was in no condition to fight him, he was certain of that. But part of the fun of ass-fucking was preparing her for it for weeks ahead of time, first telling her in detail about how much she'd be begging for him to fill her ass, listening to her protest and watching the fear and uncertainty on her face, the disbelief in her eyes. And then later, he'd get her good and turned on, and then slide his finger into her asshole while he licked and sucked her clit to orgasm. She would be so surprised that something like that could feel so good yet so dirty. The next day, he would lube up a skinny little butt plug and slide it into her while she masturbated herself to orgasm. He had several other things to do to her over the course of several days, getting her ready for that final moment, culminating in his cock taking her final virginity as she begged for him to fuck her in the ass. Oh yes, that would be one hell of a weekend...

Thinking of fucking her tight little virgin asshole was just what he needed to send him over the edge. He gripped her hips hard, and slapped her ass, making her squeal.

"I'm cumming, Brooke. Take it, bitch. Take my cum, here it comes...Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..." He slammed into her and sprayed his seed, filling her pussy until it oozed out around his still-engorged cock and dripped down his balls onto the mattress below.