Her roommate, assigned by random lottery, was 20 years old, and that was about all she knew. They were both freshmen, at least, so there was that, but no other details had been provided. 'It would ruin the fun of getting to know someone,' the annoying old cunt at the registration desk had grinned stupidly at her. It bugged her military mindset, where if you were berthed with someone, you knew who would be hot-bunking with you, everyone in your berthing area, duty schedules, the works.
"You're a civilian now, you fucktard," she said out loud to herself, air quoting around the C-word. She looked at her phone, which had been lying beside her, and groaned internally as it showed it had just passed nine at night.
"Fuck this," she tossed her phone aside and stood. She grabbed a pair of old jeans, a tight but not scandalous t-shirt, and slid on her chunky heeled knee high boots. She grabbed a fresh pack of cigarettes from her desk, pocketing it and her lighter, then glanced in the mirror above her desk.
Hair down to just skim her shoulder, swept over the right side of her head, dyed a gorgeous deep, vibrant purple with little pink highlights here and there at the fringe, the left side of her head shaved in its natural black. Left ear pierced multiple times, and two snakebite studs under her lower lip. She was usually light on makeup when not being a professional Dominatrix, so her eyeliner, lightly smoke-grey eye shadow, and glossy red lipstick were still there. She smiled as she looked at her fingers, thankful she had learned about the stuff that didn't kiss off, and stayed on until you actually had to wipe it off.
She grabbed her room key off her desk and pocketed that and her phone, pulled down her biker-style leather jacket from beside the door, then walked across the dorm and out the door, making sure to lock it behind her.
-----------------
"Oh, god," she sighed, the blue-gray smoke escaping her lips as she spoke, before she breathed the rest out through her nose. She hadn't realized she had gone nearly eight hours without a hit of nicotine, and as it buzzed up into her brain, she felt the stress of not coming, of thinking of her ex, of the boring day melting away into the back of her thoughts, if just for a few moments. Leaning back against the dorm wall, she took another, much longer drag on the smoke, opening her mouth and lightly breathing it out, letting it waft up into the air.
She had started when her parents had divorced, sneaking her first smoke at 15 from a senior at high school. At first, she had, as everyone did, coughed and sputtered and hacked and spat and all that shit. But once the nicotine had hit her, she knew she was hooked. She had been on a bad path before the Navy, with the only good thing being Kelly, and even then, that had been a very interesting meeting.
Able to think about her without it making her feel bummed again, she remembered that first day of school they had met. She had her red hair in a pony tail, wore some very smart glasses, and had stood off away from everyone at the smoke pit during her lunch cigarette. Sam had seen her there a few times before she had actually wandered over with the old "my lighter's dead" excuse, and they had chatted over the smoke break.
In two weeks, while Sam's mom was out for the weekend, probably off fucking some other guy that would use her for a weekend of fun then dump her via text on Monday, Kelly had come over. She had pitched it as a night to get to know each other better without people around that could hear or watch, and it had devolved into Sam pinning Kelly on the floor as their mouths had met, tongues dancing with each other.
Taking a small drag, Sam smirked as she exhaled out of her nose again, nodding as another girl came out of the dorms and flicked her lighter to life. Not exactly drop dead gorgeous, the other girl nonetheless was cute enough, and she nodded back with a smile before lighting her smoke. Sam was about ready to chat her up when she walked off down the pathway towards the male dorms, and she internally shrugged, returning to her thoughts.
Kelly had been the one to introduce her to the more extreme side of sex and fetishism. The had fingered each other watching Japanese abuse porn, where booted women would kick, punch, stomp, trample, and otherwise abuse males, often leaving them heavy bruised, bleeding, and even times injured. Kelly had been the first girl that had drank her piss, as Sam had stood over her in the bathtub, one foot on the lip, labia spread as she had rained gold upon her girlfriend. With a sigh, she remembered it was that night that Kelly had shown her what turned her on the most, and what had become her most extreme fetish.
She had simply brought up a website, done a quick search, and before Sam knew it, she was watching an Italian woman crouch down over a naked woman wearing a metal slave collar, and had gasped when the woman's asshole had pushed out and a long shit had coiled up and covered the slave's face. She had found herself not disgusted, but turned on as the Italian Dominatrix had then whipped the slave girl with a variety of painful implements, shouting at her to not drop her magical shit off her face. Kelly had already started to masturbate halfway through, and she had peaked her orgasm right as the video ended.
Sam took a look at her smoke, seeing it was almost done, maybe two puffs left. She smiled a little sadly remembering the week after watching that video, when Kelly's tongue had been poking and prodding in her ass crack as Sam pushed and groaned, desperately trying to bring her girlfriend joy. With final puff, she flicked the butt away, exhaling as she remembered that tongue craving, pleading with her asshole, and the things located inside.
If only the thing that was attached to the tongue had not been a piece of shit herself...
She shook her head mirthfully, then walked off into the night, searching for a good late night burger joint.
