College Daze 3

"Ask me another one."

The busty girl on Brett's bed bobbed eagerly as she spoke.

"Are you sure, Jean?" He gestured to her body. "You're running out of room."

Barring one thing, it could have been a standard study session in any college dorm room across the country. Twin beds, two study desks and chairs and various other bric-a-brac. Brett himself was an athletic eighteen year old, sitting in one of the chairs, textbook open in his lap.

The strange part was Jean herself, naked, sitting cross legged on a towel. The towel had been one of Brett's stipulations, after the first study session had left a huge stain on his comforter. Words written in black sharpie covered her pale skin, forming a map of insults.

"What's the matter, worried you won't come up with anything?" She teased, and Brett's forehead creased.

"Fine." He said, shortly. "What does Phosphorus do in the body?"

"Uh," Jean said, her own brow wrinkling as she tried to remember.

"Damn it, I covered this last night!" she exclaimed. One of her hands claimed the end of a blonde braid, spinning it around her finger as she thought.

"Uh, it, um, helps regulate heart beat?" She tried.

"Muh-mow," Brett said, with a grin. "I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer."

"Damn it," Jean thrust the braid away angrily. "What does the book say?"

"'It helps to drive chemical reactions.'" Brett quoted to her.

With a slight sigh, Jean looked down at her front, but even as she did, Brett could see her breathing get slightly faster. The skin around her nipples, which were already hard, crinkled as they hardened a little more.

"Nothing....nothing too bad this time, right?" She asked, hesitantly, as Brett put the textbook down and picked up the sharpie.

"If I go easy, you won't learn, will you?" Brett asked her, mock sternly.

"No, sir, sorry sir." Jean said, in sing-song kind of way, something she'd said many times before, and would probably say many times more.

Pen in hand, Brett walked the three steps to his bed, where Jean was sitting. In response, Jean pulled her shoulders back, pushing her ample breasts forward. The word

DOPEY

was written in sharp block letters over her left breast,

MORON

over her right.

UGLY AND STUPID

was written beneath them, on the soft skin of her stomach. Other words covered her belly, like

DUMB

,

LOSER

and

IDIOT

.

LAZY

was written across her mound,

DUMBASS

on her left inner thigh,

BRAINLESS

on her right.

With slow, bold strokes, Brett wrote the word

INATTENTIVE

over the slopes of both her breasts. Jean looked over at the mirror, and read the word back, lips moving silently. Then she shuddered, eyes closing a little and let out a soft breath of a sigh.

"Thank you, sir," she said, and then an alarm went off in the corner of the room.

"And that's it for our study session." Brett picked up the phone and killed the alarm. Jean jumped off the bed and gave him a hug, soft breasts crushing into his chest.

"Thank you SO much," She said, pushing her hips into his, and Brett shifted so that his hard cock wasn't pushing quite so close to her bare pussy. Jean grinned, looking into his eyes, then she stepped away, pulling her shoulders forward, arms angling down across her belly, pushing her breasts together, making the already large orbs look enormous.

"I'm ready for my picture," She said, coquettishly.

With a smile, Brett held up his phone, photographing the naked, graffitied girl, and turned the screen to show her.

"Your best yet," He said, proudly. Jean shuddered again, as she saw it, eyes glazed over with arousal. Shaking herself out it, she moved to the pile of clothes by the door and started to dress. Moments later, she was at the door.

"Asking you to be my study partner was the best decision I ever made." She said, eyes on the floor, and then slipped out before Brett could say a word.

***************************************

Two Months Earlier

1139.

Brett read the number on the door of his new home with a smile. He hitched the duffle bag a little higher on his sore shoulder.

I really drew the short straw on housing

, he thought as he fumbled out his new keys. Unlike the new, sleek modern dormitories on the other side of campus, he was now living on the top floor of one of the original dorms.

This place must be about 100 years old

He thought. And the top floor as well. It hadn't been fun hauling his stuff up eleven flights of stairs.

Well, at least the place isn't falling apart

, he mused, and there were only five rooms to a floor, so instead of sharing a communal bathroom with thirty other people, there were only ten. Eleven if you counted the RA.

Unlocking the door, he walked into a thumping bass beat.

"Whoa," he said, dropping his bag onto the undecorated side of the room. A small turntable had been set up on the other side, and posters of DJ's and clubs plastered the walls. A young, dark skinned man was sitting at the turntable, one earphone cupped over his ear, back to the door as he bobbed along to the music.

"Uh, hi?" Brett tried again, moving closer to his new roommate. The kid didn't respond, so Brett tapped him on the shoulder. The guy spun around on his stool, a snarl on his face but it swiftly faded as he took in Brett's duffel bag on the floor and the keys in his hand.

"Hey amigo!" he said, enthusiastically. "I'm Grayson, nice to meet you."

He thrust out a hand and Brett gave it a firm shake.

"Brett," He replied, with a grin of his own. "Looks like you really put your stamp on the room."

"Oh yeah," Grayson said, self-consciously, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. "Sorry. I can take it down-."

"Dude, no!" Brett said, looking it all over. "If this is you, it's you. Leave it up!"

Grayson opened his mouth to respond, when a blonde girl rapped on their still open door.

"Hey guys, I'm Linda, the RA. Floor meeting in the common in five, ok?"

"Sure," Grayson replied, and as quickly as she appeared, Linda disappeared.

Wordlessly, the boys exchanged a glance, and then headed off after Linda.

The Common turned out to be a large, open room, set in the middle of the building. Three old couches formed a rough half circle in front a TV on the wall and a rug lay on the floor before them.

The couches were filled with girls. Eight of them to be exact, all chatting and giggling. They cut off as the two boys entered, everyone taking stock of everyone else.

Linda blew in from one of the hallways and took up a stance before the assembled students. She was a tall blonde, with striking blue eyes and curly blonde hair. She had a more than ample chest, shown off by her spagetti strap top, and long strong legs, under her black skirt.

"Ok, listen up," She said, in a firm but friendly voice. "I know this one of the older buildings, and I know it probably doesn't have the...amenities you have been expecting...or be used to."

There was a murmur of assent, mostly from the girls, but Brett heard Grayson grunt in agreement.

Linda held up her hand imploringly.

"I know, I know, but, trust me, this building has some advantages. The walls are thick, you can scream bloody murder in one of these rooms, and no one would hear. They are about ten percent bigger than the newer dorms too. And hey, think about all the cardio you'll get done walking up those stairs!"

There was a round of laughter, following that comment.

"Now, onto the negatives. We're at the top of the building, so it can get cold in the winter months. The heating works, but by the time it gets up here, it can be more...warm than hot."

Brett sighed a little. If he hated one thing, it was being cold. Oh well, he could always supplement with a space heater.

"I know its tough, but space heaters are expressly forbidden," Linda continued. "We have older wiring, and it can't keep up with the load. Not with everyone's computers."

There was a little more discontent rumbling at that. Brett himself groaned, and a dark haired girl in a green sweater gave him a sympathetic grin. Despite his firm resolve to avoid romantic entanglements for the first month, Brett found himself grinning back.

"Finally...the bathrooms." Linda said, heavily. "The university employs a cleaner to come in once a week, but they usually only give it a lick and a promise. So, we're gonna have a roster, and everyone is going to take their turns at it."

She shot a look in the direction of Brett and Grayson.

"No one here is your mother."

A soft chuckle rippled through the room and the other girls all gave them varying looks, either of sympathy or pity, depending. Brett himself gave a little chuckle. Anyone who thought he slacked off on chores didn't know his Type A mother. Brett and his sister could all clean a bathroom, vacuum a floor, make their own lunch and wash and iron their own clothes. Doing his shift was going to be no problem. Beside him, though, he could feel Grayson let out an exasperated sigh.

"Ok, so...welcome, all, and I'll let you get back to unpacking!" Linda turned on her heel and strode back down the hall to her single room.

"Well, she'll be a real barrel of laughs," The girl in the green sweater said, as the gathering started to break up.

"I'm Jean, by the way." And she thrust her hand out towards him.

"Brett," He said, taking her soft hand and shaking. Casting around for something say, he found himself blurting.

"So, what's your major?"

Jean gave him a soft smile.

"Bio-chemistry," She said.

"Whoa, that sounds intense," Brett said, with an easy smile.

"What about you?" she asked, blue eyes on his.

"Oh, Uh, robotics," He answered.

"Jean!" A short Hispanic girl yelled down the short hall. "Come and move your stuff, it's blocking the closet."

"That's my roommate," Jean said, with an embarrassed laugh.

"I guess...I'll see you later?"

"Definitely," Brett smiled as Jean gave a little giggle, then turned and ran down the hall.

*********************************

"Ok, where does this go?" Grayson asked, as he staggered into the room, carrying a large, and very heavy, box.

"Oh, just on the floor there is fine," Denise, the plumply pretty Hispanic girl who'd talked him into helping him move gestured to the area in front of her desk.

"Thank the lord!" He sighed as he lowered his burden.

"I really appreciate the help," She said, with a cute little smile. "My roommate promised to help me, then she calls and tells me that she got help up. Half of this junk is hers!"

"It's ok," Grayson said, even though his arms ached a little. "I don't mind helping out. But, just out of curiosity, what have you got in there, anyway? Rocks?"

"Oh, uh, it's my, uh, recording equipment," Denise stuttered out, looking a little uncomfortable. "For uh, recording, like earthquakes."

"Earthquakes?" Grayson cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I'm in the Geology program, I want to be an earth quake chaser."

"That's cool," Grayson said, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Uh...want a hand to set up?"

He reached for the lid of the box, but Denise, diving to intercept him, tripped and fell. They both stumbled, knocking the box over, and sending its contents spilling out. Rather than delicate scientific equipment, a pair of leather handcuffs spilled out, along with a tangle of leather straps and chains, and something that looked suspiciously like a whip.

Grayson looked at the tangle on the floor, than at Denise, who'd gone a bright, burning red.

"Well..." he said, awkwardly. "Earthquakes, huh?"

"Oh.My.God." Denise babbled, diving down to the floor and try to scoop things back into the box. As the box was still on its side, that didn't work too well.

"It's, it's not what you think, I'm not weird!" she cried, "I'm just...oh god. Please don't tell anyone."

Grayson looked at the scattering of bondage gear on the floor, Denise on her knees in front of him, and he couldn't deny the swelling in his pants. Slowly, he reached down and picked up the metal collar that had rolled up against his foot. Denise's eyes were huge, as she knelt there, watching him. With deliberation, he reached out, and closed the mental around her neck with a soft

click

.

Denise let out a soft whimper, equal parts fear and arousal, and Grayson smiled, trying to relax her.

"Sir," she said, softly, and Grayson felt his pants get a little tighter. "Sir, I don't, I mean...we just met and..."

Grayson held up a hand, and she cut off her sentence.

"It's ok, girl," He said, softly, and the still rational part of brain marvelled at what he was doing. He'd never done anything like this before, although, it was true he'd fantasised about it a lot. But he sounded like a total veteran, voice smooth and confident.

"I don't expect anything from you, right now," He continued. "No sex, nothing too...physical."

"But, I think we can make your unpacking a little more interesting, with all this gear, can't we?"

Denise's eyes went wide, and the sigh that escaped was again, equal parts fear and arousal.

"Yes, sir...we certainly can." she said.

Stooping, Grayson plucked up the pair of leather cuffs and inspected them. They were good quality leather, practically unmarked, and each of the holes had a grommet around it, protecting it from tearing. An extra loop on the hasp allowed for a small padlock to be attached, locking them on.

"Wrists," he said, quietly, and without a murmur, Denise lifted her hands, palm up, bending her fingers back towards her body. Gently, Grayson slipped a cuff around her left wrist and fastened it, rather loosely. He repeated that with her right wrist, and then connected them with a small length of chain.

"Sir?" Denise said tentatively. She grasped one cuff with her hand and pulled it forward. It slid over her wrist with barely any resistance. Grayson felt heat flare in his cheeks as he took the leather cuff from her.

"I, uh...like this?" he asked, pulling the cuff tighter this time, fumbling with the catch. Denise looked at his face searchingly, then nodded. Grayson quickly tightened the other cuff.

As much as he didn't know about all this stuff, there was one thing he did.

"Do you have a safe word?" He asked her.

Denise nodded with a small smile.

"It's the word 'Snuffupugus', Sir," she replied. "Or, if you've gagged me, it's when I close and open my hands three times." Grayson nodded, his heart beating fast.

"Can you recommend a gag?" he asked.

"Yes sir, she can, sir," Denise let a small smile creep across her face. "Sir, if you want her to remove any clothes, it might be better before you put her into any more bondage."

"Ah yes, good point," Grayson said, and then made a lifting gesture with his hand. "Stand up."

Denise rose smoothly to her feet in response, her own heart beating a little faster.

"Take the skirt off," Grayson ordered, and had to hold back a whimper as she did it. Her panties were a bright yellow, with a little lace bow. And at the crotch, the fabric was noticeably darker. Denise met his eyes, and while her breath was a shudder, her gaze was challenging.

"The gag," he prompted and she pulled a bright blue ball out of the pile.

"This one...this one is a punishment gag, sir." She said. "It's got a plastic coating on it that tastes....terrible."

With a smile, Grayson took the gag she offered and pressed it to her lips. She gave a little shiver as she opened her mouth, accepting the blue ball. Her eyes were wide and liquid as it seated itself behind her teeth, and then he wrapped the straps around her head. This particular gag had straps that climbed over her face as well, all four meeting behind her head. He fastened it tightly, and then looked at Denise, eyebrow cocked in question. She tilted her head slightly, then nodded.

Without speaking, Grayson picked up a short length of chain, and hooked it to her cuffs. The chain kept her hands about shoulder width apart, allowing her to narrow that distance, but not widen it.

"Now, I want you to stay like that until you've finished unpacking tonight. Or 11:30 pm. Whichever comes first."

Denise gave him a nod, her mouth stretched wide by the gag, but her eyes were wide and begging.

With a smile, Grayson picked up her phone, and input his phone number.

"Have fun unpacking," he said, giving her cheek a caress. With a half moan, half sigh, Denise nuzzled up against his hand.

"Give me a call sometime," He said and she nodded emphatically. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

And then he slipped from her room, heading back to his own.

He had some reading to do.