Major Dominance

The following story takes place on a country isolated from the rest of the world. This country is so small that nothing written below could plausibly happen in real life. Therefore, the story - with its crude elements, unjust social systems, and irredeemable characters - is fiction.

***

I stood before a peculiar college: Dremeder University. It was not the most prestigious school, nor the least. For me, however, it was perfect, because it had an administratively enforced hierarchy. The more respected your major was, the more rights you had. Generally, more respect came with more rigor, so if you majored in something hard like physics, you could dominate most people at the university. Whereas, if you majored something like psychology, you would be the one subjected to domination. It was all based on the major.

I was glad to be here, though it's not like I had a choice given my applications were less than ideal. In fact, I'm pretty sure no other college would have accepted me due to a stain on my disciplinary records.

Dragging my suitcase, which was stuffed with paranoidly added belongings (you had to be prepared for anything at Dremeder), I entered Bian Hall, one of two dormitories at Dremeder. I needed to check-in so that I could get settled in my room.

A spacious lobby with three girls in it greeted me. One was behind the front desk, wearing a beautiful but intimidating red dress. She seemed ready for a social event, and something told me she was in charge, even if her aura was not all that imposing. She stared absentmindedly at a computer, tapping her fingers on the desk.

There were also two submissive women standing to the left and right of the desk wearing more revealing clothing. They had plain t-shirts that were far too small for them and skirts with the same description. They had their hands behind their backs, and they eyed me, nervously, as I approached the front desk.

"What do you need?" the front desk girl said. She spoke quickly, no doubt trying to get me out of the way as quickly as possible, as if that would somehow make her hours shorter.

"Hello! I'm a new student and I need to check into my room."

"What's your major?" she asked. I paused. This was it. This is where my dreams could be realized. Where I could live a life that I would be happy with.

"Sociology," I said. The front desk lady stared blankly at me for a moment. She lit up. She put a hand over her mouth trying to stop her laugh. She failed miserably and turned her head away laughing heartily.

Finally, she looked at me. "Are you mental? Most people start out with a dominant major like computer science and then are forced to quit when it becomes too hard. But you!" -- she laughed again -- "You picked sociology, one of the most submissive majors right out the gate. Do you know where you are, girl? Are you really prepared for what is about to happen to you?"

I nodded enthusiastically. She seemed caught off guard by my lack of fear, but quickly composed herself. She snapped at the two girls, and one of them hurriedly grabbed my suitcase.

"Oh, I can take my suitcase myself," I said. But she pried the suitcase out of my hands, glaring at me.

"It's not your suitcase anymore," the front desk girl explained. I smiled. I had already chosen my place here. I couldn't suppress a giggle. Front desk girl shook her head. "You really are a freaky slut, huh? What's your name?"

"Leah."

She went to a room behind the desk and emerged with a small bag. She searched for my room information on her computer. A few moments later her eyes widened. "Oh man, you're in for it, Leah," she said. I looked curiously at her.

She told me to follow her and led me up a few flights of stairs. We turned into a small hallway, and into a small dorm room. There were two desks, two beds, two wardrobes, a mirror, and that was it. The room was empty, meaning my roommate was not here yet.

"Okay listen up." I turned to face the front desk girl. "The roommate you get assigned is based on the major you choose. If you choose a very submissive major, like - I don't know - fucking

sociology

, then you get paired with a very dominant major. The person you've been paired with has a very dominant major. Like the dominant-est. Like, I would be concerned if I was you. I don't know if you are stupid or just some whore, but since you picked sociology, this major that your roommate has-"

"What is her major?" I asked.

"It's math."

A stupid grin emerged on my face. Math is the highest ranking major, meaning my roommate could practically do whatever she wanted with me. She could tell me to masturbate in public, or force me to crawl around naked, or tie me up and have her way with me, or not tie me up and have her way with me. And if I did not obey her, I would be expelled.

Just thinking about it was making me squirm. I could feel the heat heading to my cheeks as I daydreamed about my hot new life at Dremeder University. My hands started to wander to my crotch as I lost myself in dreamland.

Front desk girl interrupted my fantasies. "Before your roommate gets here, you have to be prepared."

"Oh don't worry, I am prepared," I said, smiling. She gave me a disapproving look.

"Yes, we've established that you're a freakish submissive, slut-brained, skanky, whorish, punish-me-Mistress-ish doll who likes to be used. But that's not what I mean when I say-"

"I'm sorry, can you list some more adjectives, I was just getting into that."

"Jesus Leah. Seek help, girl. But also, that's not what I mean by 'prepared.'"

"Well, what do you mean by 'prepared?'"

She pulled my shirt. "As a start, you can strip. Sociology majors aren't allowed to wear clothing on campus."

I removed my shoes and socks and took off my shirt and skirt, revealing a black bra and matching black panties. Front desk girl nodded, urging me to continue.

As if I needed her encouragement

, I thought to myself. I decided to take off the bra slowly, unstrapping it, and just letting it hang on my chest for a short while before it fell naturally to the ground. Front desk girl stared at my erect nipples with her lips parted. I started an equally slow removal of my panties. Bending over a tiny bit at a time to bring them down my legs. Font desk girl was clearly enjoying the show, but she cleared her throat.

"Hurry up, please. I don't know when your roommate will be here. All I know is that I don't want to be here when she is, especially if I haven't finished preparing you. I mean, math majors can even boss around us biology majors, it's kind of crazy. And stupid, if you ask me. Oh, but who cares about my opinion? I'm just a biology major." She let out a deep sigh.

"Well STEM is STEM," I said. She smiled at me, partly at my encouragement, and partly because I was now fully naked.

"Thanks," she said, kicking my clothes to the side. "Now kneel over here. In front of the door." I did as I was told. She tapped my knees, getting me to spread them wide, revealing my bare pussy. "Put your hands behind your back." She walked behind me and adjusted my arms so that each hand was holding the opposite elbow. She squeezed my elbows together, which forced my shoulders back and my chest to thrust forward. She told me to look at the top of the door frame. I craned my neck up. She put a blindfold over my eyes and let out a breath, satisfied with her work. "You'll stay like this until your roommate - owner - gets here. She'll finish collaring you. We're supposed to leave the door open, so make sure you stay in position."

I could feel my pussy throb. Since I was seated right in front of the door frame, and since the door was left open, anyone walking down the hall would see me. And I would not be able to hear the door opening when my roommate - owner - got here, so I had to always be prepared for her arrival and keep my position steady as a result.

"Now listen, Leah," front desk girl said. "I'm going to make you feel very good in a second. But you must tell me when you are about to cum. Is that clear?"

Exactly what my wet pussy needed. "Yes, Ma'am!"

After a moment, I felt her hands on my body. She started on my shoulders, but moved over my chest, circling my tits. I didn't hold my moans back. She moved her hands further down my body. I could tell that she was behind me, since I could feel her chin near my shoulder.

She whispered seductively into my ear. "Honestly, I'm quite jealous of your owner. She gets to keep this sensitive, insatiable, beautiful, eager little slut to herself." A hand went to my clit. She masterfully stimulated it. Another hand went to my labia. She rubbed my entrance, stroking it carefully, before easily sliding a finger inside. She clearly had experience. My moans became louder. They could probably be heard down the hall, but I doubted that was unusual at Dremeder.

"May I please cum?" I begged. She immediately pulled her hands away.

"Sorry, girl. We're supposed to bring you to the edge of climax to prepare you for your owner."

I turned my head to her voice, my mouth open in disbelief. She just toyed with me and left me frustrated. I closed my knees slightly, trying to rub my pussy and finish what she started. She forced my knees apart, turned my head back to the doorframe, and fixed my hands. I was a breathless, blindfolded, denied plaything that she controlled.

The front desk girl made me lick her fingers clean. I heard her pull something out of her bag. "Open you mouth." I obeyed, still angry about being denied release. "Bite down." I timidly bit down on something. It was thin.

"That completes the preparation," front desk girl said. "Make sure you stay like that. I know it may be difficult, being denied and all, but you signed up to be dominated, for whatever reason. You'll have to learn how to deal with it, if you haven't already. However, if your owner does put you in real danger, you should report to the administrative office, and they'll do something about it. But if you complain about your owner when she hasn't done anything bad, then you'll be severely punished or expelled. Understand?" I tried speaking with the thing in my mouth. She chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes. Your owner will put that collar on you when she gets here. Good luck."

With that, she left me kneeling naked in front of an open door, blindfolded, and thus unable to know who would look at me. It just now occurred to me how exposed I was. And how wet I was.

***

It was a few minutes later when I heard footsteps down the hall. I was an eager mess in heat. I was so desperate for relief yet excited from anticipation that I was wrapping my tongue all around the collar in my mouth. A small puddle around my pussy formed from its juices.

I was finally going to be fully dominated. Out of control. I had fantasized about this for so long, and now it was finally happening.

The footsteps got louder and then stopped. Here we go. I puffed my chest out, ready to embrace a completely submissive lifestyle. "H-hi! Um..." I meek voice entered my ears. "I am your roommate... um... owner, I guess. Oh! My n-name is, uh, Andrea. W-w-what... is yours?"

Are you fucking kidding me? This weak-willed bitch was the owner I got assigned, seriously?

"U-um. I'm a math major. How about you?"

My life would be a comedy show if I wasn't the one living it. I mean come on! I ask for simple things, like being mercilessly dominated. I go to a college that specializes in said simple things. And it can't even deliver on the most important part? I mumbled some basic greeting through the collar. Andrea could not understand me - because I was mumbling - not because I was speaking with a collar in my mouth.

"Oh! I'm sorry. You can remove the blindfold and the collar and all that."

Are you fucking kidding me? I let go of the collar. It fell on the floor, splashing in my juices. I took off my blindfold and gave Andrea a piercing gaze.

I would've considered her hot under normal circumstances. She had flawless, tropical skin and large, satisfying curves. Smooth, dark hair outlined her sharp face. She wore a white shirt tucked into her jeans, and a light jacket. Her broad shoulders complemented her height.

She looked dominating. But evidently, she was not. And because she was not, I did not consider her hot. I considered her to be quite ugly, in fact. All because of her personality. My piercing gaze became almost sad. This could have been so perfect. Why? Why did she have to be like this?

Andrea took an alarmed step back, intimidated by my stare. "U-um, sorry about that... But don't worry! I don't really believe in the whole hierarchy system here, so feel free to get comfortable. Mi casa es su casa, and all that. Oh! And they gave me your suitcase, saying that it was mine. But I know it's yours, so you can have it back."

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me? Why couldn't the front desk girl just be my owner? What the heck is this crap? Andrea rolled my suitcase in the room.

She offered her hand to help me up. I stared hopelessly at her palm, which was shaking from nervousness.

I don't know what I expected. This was college. This was a place where dreams go to die. You enter as a freshman full of hope, and graduate as a senior who has wasted four years of their life. That was going to be me. I felt dread creep onto my shoulders. My life was slipping through my hands, like sand. Despair wrenched my body.

No.

Not like this. I refuse to let chance dictate my life.

It was clear I needed to bring out the dominant side of my owner. No matter how repressed, or small it is, I would bring it out. I would mold her into my ideal image.

And make her mine.

I moved my face closer to her hand. Andrea seemed confused. Then I licked it. It was a nice, long lick, from her fingertips to her wrist. Andrea shivered at my touch. I took my chance. "Mistress Andrea, I need your help."

She withdrew her hand, laughing nervously. "Oh! No need for that... um. You don't have to call me Mistress. Andrea is fine..."

I didn't miss a beat. "Oh, then what should your little slut call you, if not Mistress? Just Miss? Or owner? It absolutely can't be Andrea. Perhaps... Mommy?"

"Ah! No, not that. That's... weird. It really can't be Andrea?" I shook my head. "T-then, I guess Miss will be fine."

I frowned. I guess I'll take what I can get. "Yes, Miss," I said.

We exchanged an awkward moment. I was still kneeling naked on the ground with my knees spread apart, while she was standing clumsily next to me. I waited for her to act.

At last, she spoke. "What did you need help with... um... what is your name?"

"My name is Leah, Miss, but you can call me whatever you want." She seemed slightly confused. I decided to press her further. "I am your submissive, skanky, whorish doll who likes to be used after all."

I did not tell her that I stole those words from the front desk girl, which was probably a violation of the Honor Code at this school. But who cares? I paraphrased, didn't I?

Andrea gulped. "I-I see... And what did you need help with, Leah." Ugh. I even gave her a bunch of adjectives to work with and she still just called me Leah. But she did not flat-out bail after all those dirty words, so perhaps it was a win.

"I'm absurdly horny right now. I have been brought to the edge and mercilessly left hanging. I need you to relieve me." I stood up and walked over to her. She tried to look at my eyes, but eventually looked all over me.

"Oh! Your legs. They're red. How long have you been kneeling there?" Andrea asked. She noticed my puddle of pussy juices. "Quite a while I imagine..." Her face became a deep red. I wasted no time, grabbing her arm and placing it between my legs. "Did you want me to massage your legs?"

"NO! I mean... no, Miss." How was I being more dominant than her? I had never been more dominant than anyone.

"You don't have to call me Miss-"

I wasn't going to have it. "Can you please massage my clit instead,

Miss

? I need release." I emphasized the word Miss, making it clear that that was her unnegotiable title.

"Well, I suppose if you

need

release..." she said. I could tell she was getting horny as well. Ironically, because she was nervous, her hands were cold and shaking, serving as a natural vibrator for my pussy. She lifted her hand up, wedging it between my pussy lips. I was started at the sudden movement. She looked at me for approval, and I smiled, nodding.

I leaned into her, my breasts rubbing against her shirt. She ran her free hand through my hair. Her other hand began thrusting in and out of my vagina, getting me closer and closer to the edge. I rested my head on her chest, letting her support more of my weight.

I felt light. She kept up the thrusting pace, still nervous, which meant her hand was still vibrating. I lifted one of my legs and wrapped It around her. Raising my head, my lips met hers. They were soft and warm.

Her thrusts were now more confident, her fingers gaining speed. I moaned against her lips, nearing the edge. "Miss, may I please cum?" I asked. I needed her to grant approval. Otherwise, she would not be dominant. I was so close, but I needed to hold on until I got her permission.

"You don't need my permission to-"

"MISS, MAY I... PLEase... cum?" I begged. Andrea hesitated. I had to hold out. I had to stop my orgasm until I had her permission. I had to make her get used to being in control.

But I could feel her hands start to shake more. And I could see the discomfort grow in her eyes. And I couldn't wait any longer. I prepared myself for sweet release. I closed my eyes and buried my head in her shirt. And then-

Nothing.

I looked up at Andrea with disoriented anguish. Her hand was not in my pussy. She was holding it up. It was covered with my fluids. Why did she stop? I was so close.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not sure I can do this. I feel bad taking advantage of someone like this."

Throughout my whole life I had felt like a failure. No matter what I had tried to do, I had never completely succeeded. The things I'd done... The mistakes I'd made to end up here... I had been made fun of by my closest friends, been insulted by teachers, and been dismissed as a failure by my own parents. My own brother always looked down on me. But none of that broke me. I had believed in myself despite everything, and it made me who I am.

And yet.

When Andrea denied me, it was not her discomfort that broke me, but rather that she did not want to take advantage of me. She did not want to hurt me, and in not doing so, I was ruined.

I collapsed to the ground, my knees folding, and eighteen years of tears that I'd been holding back spilled out. It was violent despair. My sobs shook the room. My throat hurt from the tremors. The dorm room door was still open, and a boy walked by, observing my sobbing mess. He wrongly assumed that I was being treated harshly by Andrea. "Poor girl," he said, shaking his head. "Poor girl."

With a worried gasp, Andrea closed the door, trying to protect my privacy and her own reputation. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry."

I collapsed on the floor as my world faded to black.

***

My face felt dry. An irritating light infiltrated my eyes. I opened them slightly and saw the flash of a red dress.

"Front desk girl..." I said weakly. Front desk girl looked at me, a strange expression on her face. I felt the soft cushion beneath my head and blankets directly on my skin. I was still naked.

"My name is Stacy," she said.

When I sat up, I saw Andrea sitting on a chair in the corner. Her hands were on her lap. She didn't look me in the eyes. She didn't need me or want me. I shifted in the blankets and rubbed my eyes.

"What are you doing here, Stacy?" My voice was low and quiet.

Stacy glanced over at Andrea, who pointed her eyes to the floor. She sighed and turned her attention to me. "Andrea told me what happened. After you collapsed, she went to the front desk for help. I was gonna go to a party with my slave, but I couldn't really say no to a math major. So here I am."