This story takes place at Dremeder University, a place where certain majors dominate others. Andrea is Leah's roommate and owner.
***
ANDREA
***
I realized that I loved Leah the day after the college party, when I -
we
, as she insisted - rejected the Orgo Gs. We slept in the same small dorm bed that night and woke up the next morning with our skin touching. My arm had found its way around her body during the night. It was a Sunday, and I spent most of the morning pleasuring her.
I excited her by reaching a hand between her legs until she was on the brink of orgasm. Then I tied up her entire body with rope, as I learned in my knots class, and let my little slut leak from anticipation. I pressed a vibrator to her clit and put it on full power, letting her cum over and over until she begged me to stop. When I did stop, she recovered her breath and begged me to continue, and I did. That Sunday morning, I gave her all the pleasure she could want and more. By the end of our session, we had forgotten all the tension of the previous night. Rather, we pushed passed it.
I ordered Leah to start doing my laundry, which she instantly agreed to, since her orgasm-fried brain allowed her little resistance to my orders. "Anything for you, Mistress," she said, gasping for air.
There are perks to having a sex slave
,
I realized. For the first time, I recognized just how willing Leah was to serve me and how much I loved her for it.
Rue, on the other hand, was feverish after the Orgo G party. She could not string together a coherent sentence even if her orgasms depended on it, which they did. Stacy explained to me that if Rue behaved obediently, as she had during the party, then she would experience terrible cold symptoms. She would be unable to obey orders for a week, for the world must exist in balance. A disobedient person must be disobedient, and all obedience comes at a price.
Stacy and Rue did not care that we rejected the organization that they were a part of. "We all make our choices," Stacy said.
"Yeahhha...," Rue managed to moan through her delirium.
Stacy quickly returned to tending to her submissive, concern in her eyes. She kissed Rue's forehead. "Quiet, Rue. Don't exert yourself by talking."
Rue, slave of Stacy, spoke: "The interposition of the level at which the formulation occurs in a topological space can only be described in Lagrangian mechanics in an orthogonal relationship to the three-space dimensional tri-vector through which the performance of a cycloid performs the tasks-"
Stacy hurried to correct her mistake. "I command you to continue talking!" she said. Rue stopped talking.
It was total gibberish anyway
. Still, Rue's post-obedience disobedience was almost magical, as if some spell compelled her to disobey her mistress' commands.
Stacy shook her head. "Poor girl... I really should tell Kaycee to stop making you work so hard at those parties. You just aren't meant to be obedient."
Over the next few days, Stacy nursed Rue back to health while Leah and I had frequent sex. I kept Leah bound as much as possible and went back to restricting her orgasms. My guilt was not so great that I would forget my duties as a mistress. Leah grumbled every time I teased her pussy, but I had learned to recognize when she was genuinely upset, so I knew she was just being playful.
Midterms passed. Leah excelled in her classes, including, with my help, in calculus. The weeks after that went quickly and happily for the most part.
Election day neared: either Dean Dixmier, head of the math department, or Dr. Stab, head of the economics department, would win.
But Leah and I had other struggles, preventing us from thinking much of the election. The semester was almost over, and we both fought through the final stretch. I studied for my math finals while Leah had essays for history and a calculus final to study for.
She hunched over her computer screen, staring blankly at her practice problems. She'd found an online PDF to avoid paying for her math textbook, and I was proud of her for that. I approved generally of all the cheapest methods of acquisition and respected Leah's ability find such a method.
Something was off about her today, however. Every now and then her head drooped down, her eyes lost in something beyond the screen.
"You've been on that page for a long time," I said.
She grumbled.
"Look, if you're too tired from the sleep schedule I've put you on, I can be more lenient about it." I had been making her wake up and going to bed earlier because I hated the idea of having a roommate with a different sleep schedule than me, but now I worried that I may have been too hard on her.
She shook her head. "Don't worry, Mistress. That's not an issue."
"Then what's the matter with you?" I asked. "You seem a bit loopy."
"Nothing," she said. A blatant lie.
I rolled my chair over to hers, glancing at the question she was stuck on. Leah's eyes were very soft, but her eyebrows were furrowed as she concentrated on the screen. One of her hands played with her collar ring. She was naked as always. "What's troubling you, Leah?"
"I don't know. This question..."
"Let me take a look," I said. It was an integration by parts question.
"I keep having to do integration by parts but then the integral I get also has to be integrated by parts."
"Ah, trig functions make life harder." I checked her work. "If you'll notice, you're going in circles here." I pointed to a term on the right side of the equation and showed Leah that it was the same as one on the left. "All you have to do is combine like terms."
Leah processed my words for a second and scratched her head. "I don't get it."
I grabbed her pencil and circled the two terms that were the same. "Just add this term to both sides of the equation to cancel it out. Then you just divide by two on both sides to get the original thing you were looking for."
She wrote down a shaky line of math.
I kissed her. "Good job, Leah. Except you forgot the plus C."
She checked her math with a grimace.
"And you know what that means," I said.
"Yes, Mistress..." She stood up slowly.
"I need a more positive attitude from you, girl."
Leah dropped to her knees and presented herself to me. She thrust out her chest and kept her hands behind her back, her knees wide apart.
I had been helping Leah with her math work for a few weeks now and came up with the rule that if I ever caught her forgetting a plus C, she would be punished.
I stroked her hair, watching her shudder at my touch. "What shall I do with you today?" I placed my hand in front of her face. She eyed it curiously. "Kiss it," I demanded. She hesitantly placed her lips on my palm. Next, I slapped her tits hard. "That's one."
She had her eyes shut tight from the pain. She opened them to find my palm once again in her face. She kissed it again and I slapped her chest again. "Two."
I wanted her to kiss the hand that punished her, and went up to ten slaps, five on each side of her chest, before letting her get back to her math homework. I tutored her for as long as I could after that and left for my classes.
Discrete math was my hardest class. On the first day the professor said to us, "We are required by the Department of Mathematics to inform you that this class gets significantly harder after the first two weeks, so keep that in mind when deciding whether to drop the class or not." After that first week, about a third of the students dropped the class. Luckily, I had managed to get As on all the exams so far, but I was still nervous about the final.
Yet my thoughts focused on Leah instead of my studies. I had completely fallen for her over the semester, whether she knew it or not, but I was too scared to tell her. Imagine if I confessed my love and she did not feel the same way, but I remained her owner because Dremeder University required it of me. Yikes.
The agony of not knowing for sure that Leah loved me back shook my heartstrings with a terrible anxiety. I felt tendons within my chest flutter, shudder, stretch, and break, and could do nothing while fear of rejection seized me.
My math professor had written several theorems on the board (indeed, we still learned new material just days away from the final). I hurried to write them down, knowing I would have to study extra hard later, since my thoughts kept me away from mathematics.
Once class ended, I walked back to my room. Another anxiety took over me. After this semester was winter break. We would go back to our homes for the holidays, presumably, and would be separated for a month. I had to confess my love for Leah before that happened.
Instead of confessing my love, however, I decided to come up with a few new rules for Leah to follow. Once I finished my classes for the day, I would forbid her from keeping her legs closed, always requiring her knees to be spread reasonably apart. And I would require her to keep her hands behind her back unless working on something. Basically, I would prohibit her from covering herself. I knew Leah would like it, even if I found it a bit uncomfortable at first.
I felt my body go hot as I thought about how exposed Leah would be in the room.
I'm going to fuck her even more often with her pretty body constantly on display.
As I entered the dormitory, a student interrupted my thoughts by asking about the
Knots Monthly
magazine, the one with Leah's bound body on the cover. The magazine decided that the picture captured their spirit so well that they would keep it on the cover for the rest of the year, spring semester included. Word had gotten around quickly about Leah and now even I was a bit famous, known as the architect of Leah's torment (a compliment at Dremeder University).
"You could use Slave Leah's fame to win the election for Dean Dixmier," the student said. He was a boy who I recognized because he was
always
in the freaking lobby.
"Slave Leah?" I asked.
"Yes, Slave Leah. That's what she's known as. She's a legend." The boy looked into my eyes with a completely serious face. "You have to use her to destroy Dr. Stab."
"Uh," I began. I didn't know what this student was talking about. He was a green badge, so he probably wanted to keep Dean Dixmier in charge. But what did he want me to do? "I think you are overestimating our influence."
"I'm not," the boy confirmed. "You and Slave Leah are popular among students. You can sway student opinion. Many department heads listen to what their students want and will vote based on that. Then Dean Dixmier can keep her position as the dean and Dr. Stab and suck it."
I was dumbstruck. How could we make such a statement? And would it really influence the election that much? Just what kind of magazine was this
Knots Monthly
anyway?
"Just think about it," the lobby boy said. "You can make a public statement at the center of the university - on the Amphitheater near Paradise Hall. In two days, students will gather to hear speeches."