Self-Control

This is Part 2, if you haven't read Part 1, I recommend reading it first.

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Carrie hadn't slept that well in a long time. It felt as if she had slipped into unconsciousness. The blaring of her radio alarm the next morning was like a slap in the face. She rolled over onto her back, her arm resting on her forehead. There was something . . . something that she was supposed to remember. All of this had a familiar feel to it. The sleep, the feeling of peace. . . .

In an instant it came flooding back to her, the letters, the man in the equipment room, the feeling of her back against the gymnastic mats, legs spread, gasping as the stranger pounded away, being unable to stop herself. Begging him to fuck her. She groaned and rolled over, burying her head in the pillow. Everything she had worked so hard for was crumbling. Why had she moved here? Why had she thought it would do any good? Oh no! The bag! He had made her leave her gym bag in the equipment room. It meant that she would have to go back there tonight. Her stomach sank. She had to stop this before it went any further.

She hurried through her morning routine, hoping to sneak a shower in before her roommates took over the bathroom. Once she got in she turned the water on hot, filling the bathroom with steam. A good sweat always made her feel cleaner somehow. As she showered she realized that the man had not used a condom the night before. Reaching between her legs she felt his leftover cum oozing out of her. Her eyes snap shut but the memory took her over and she moaned, rubbing her tender flesh, raising a soapy hand to brush and tease her nipples. Gasping, she pinched and pulled at her breasts as the fingers buried deep in her folds danced endlessly, rhythmically. The night flashed in her mind: his cock in her mouth, a hand grabbing her wrist, his tongue on her clit. In the end she had to abandon her breasts to grab the wall for support as she climaxed violently, gasping, then biting her lip and trying not to cry out and be heard over the pounding of the water.

It was Wednesday. She had two classes on Wednesdays, Anthropology and English Literature. After Lit she would have to go and retrieve her gym bag. During Anthropology they watched a video about tribal sexuality. It focused on one group who passed around a single woman from their community in the hopes of conceiving a new chief from the collective seed of the men in the tribe. It was considered a great honor for the female who was chosen. The film went on to explain that once the woman was pregnant that the men would continue to "fill" her with their seed to aid the growing child. If the baby was male, he would grow to be a chief in the village, if female, she would one day take the place of her mother. The thought of the girl, going from man to man, offering herself, and being taken was driving Carrie crazy. She could feel how damp her panties were. She was sitting in the back of the large auditorium as usual. The chair to her left was empty and in the chair on her right there was a guy sleeping through the film. A trembling had slowly slid her skirt up until her hand could slide between her legs. Her panties were soaked and she quickly moved them aside to get access to her swollen clit. Moving slowly she circled it with her fingers and with quiet quick motions she teased herself as she imagined that young girl taken from behind amongst the reeds on a riverbank.

Before she could bring herself to climax however the fire alarm began to blare. With a frown of frustration she quickly slid her skirt down, gather her books and followed the others out onto the quad. Students were standing around in groups of twos and threes. She hadn't really made any friends at this college and of the few she did know, none of them were on this side of the building. She sat down on the curb in front of the Chemistry annex. Fabric whispered against her skin as her skirt rode up to mid thigh. Anyone passing by would be able to see her panties as she sat, knees up, on the curb. The thought made her nervous and excited. Could they see how damp her panties were too? Was there a dark wet spot? One finger casually traced the side of her breast as she cradled her textbooks on her lap. The thought occurred to her that she could just lie back, here in the grass and spread her legs for anyone that might be brave enough to take her. She trembled and goosebumps erupted along her arms. Out of the corner of her eye she spied two men staring at her. But she played her part, the oblivious co-ed making a little error in discretion until a nearby professor gave the "all-clear".

Lit class was, for the most part, dull as dishwater, a phrase her mother often used. Not her favorite phrase though. The clock moved both too fast and too slow. She was a frenzy of anticipation, but at the same time she was filled with self-loathing. Deep inside there was a part of her was looking forward to it. To whatever he had in store for her. She could handle anything, as a matter of fact, there wasn't much that she couldn't handle. Of course she had her favorites . . .

That was it! Enough! It was as if two halves of herself were locked in combat. She tried to remember why she made this move and this choice. It was difficult to justify. Finally after staring blankly at the professor for 10 minutes and taking slow deep breaths, she found that she had calmed down quite a bit. That was good, lit class was nearly over.

Her resolve was strong by the time she got to the gym. She had thought a lot about why she was here and what she wanted. She opened the door to the equipment room and stepped in. It was quiet and dark. Her gym bag was lying on the floor on the other side of the room. Quickly, she walked over to it, grabbed it, and headed back to the door. As soon as she turned around she saw him standing in front of the door blocking her exit.

"Seriously Carrie, did you think it would be so easy?" he stood near the genie one hand resting on the floor of its basket, his head tilted to one side gazing at her. His smirk infuriated her.

"Fuck you, asshole." she said and immediately regretted it. Still, it was an exit line and she attempted to storm past him. Stepping toward her and into her path he paused and held his ground. They stood there about eight feet apart for a minute. She had a chance to look him over. He was younger than she had thought, maybe mid twenties. He was thin with a mop of dark hair that she could tell would curl if he let it grow any longer. In his eyes she found the familiar look, the hunger. It was like looking into the eyes of an old friend. It was a look she could relate to.

"I know about you Carrie. I know about where you come from. I know what you're like. I . . " he paused, shifting his weight "I just want to fuck you Carrie. I know you want it." And she did. But so far so good, he wasn't pushing her buttons. He seemed to be a little more timid than the day before. That was good, that would give her time to get out of the situation.

"Look, I don't care what you think you know, I'm leaving, and you can't stop me." He paused, looked at his feet for a moment, then looked up and into her eyes. There was a different look there now. She felt a twinge inside. Head down she stepped quickly toward him. He hesitated for a second and then grabbed by the arm and pulled her to him. She was about to push him away when he spun her around so that her back was to him, his other arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. She could feel his hard cock pressing into the crack of her ass. The hand pressing her hips into him slid down and ground against her clit with each thrust. His breath was heavy in her ear. She could feel warmth spreading, flushing her cheeks. She tried one again to get away but he yanked her back, cupping her face in his hand and pulling her head back so he could whisper, fiercely, in her ear. The timidness wiped out, his words came out in a rapid, fierce whisper.

"You're not going anywhere whore. I said I know you. I know about your last school. I know all about how you fucked all those guys in the commons lounge. I know how you sucked off the dean, and I know all about the girls in the locker room. You've got a history. You can't just walk away from that." His hands moved at the same time and started pulling and pinching at her nipples through her shirt and bra. Carrie gritted her teeth against the pleasure and fought the urge to spread her legs.

"I'm not going to do it." Carrie said softly. The man reached up and ripped her shirt open leaving buttons to fall to the floor. In another quick movement he had he bra open and his fingers zeroed in on her erect nipples, pinching and teasing them. In spite of herself she began to gasp a little, letting out a little moan when he pulled her back against him. Still she resisted.

"I've got someone I want you to meet." A man stepped out of the shadows. He was average looking, a little taller than the stranger but also a little thinner, he had a few days growth of beard. Carrie's eyes fell to the bulge in his pants. He had been watching from the darkness. The man walked over to a folding chair that was against the wall and sat down. He unzipped his pants and freed his hard cock. He watched Carrie as he slowly stroked it. It was larger than the janitors. She watched him stroke it, mesmerized. The janitor renewed his attention to her nipples then slid one hand down pulled up her skirt and slid his hand into her panties. He turned her toward the man and pulled her open her shirt and, with his free hand teased and pinched her exposed nipple. Carrie could not look away from the man in the chair, slowly stroking his cock. "You want to suck it don't you Carrie?" the janitor whispered in her ear. Carrie didn't answer but continued to stare at the man's hand slowly pumping his cock. The janitor bent down and whispered in her ear, "Maybe if you're real good Carrie, he'll cum on your face. Would you like that?" She groaned. She was on fired. The janitor let go of her and gave her a shove that forced her onto her knees in front of the man. All she could see was his cock bobbing in the low light as he stroked it. She crawled the final few feet towards him.

The man grabbed Carrie by the ponytail before she could begin to suck his cock. He took his dick in his other hand and rubbed the head against her lips which parted instinctively to take him in and he pulled back. "Stick out your tongue." he said flatly. He rubbed his head against her tongue until it was slick with her saliva, then he allowed her to run her tongue along his shaft, never letting his grip on her hair relax. His fingers curled it in, just to the point of pain. It made her crazy. She wanted desperately to have him inside her, anywhere. Whenever she tried to take him into her mouth he would pull her away by her hair. He began rubbing he slick cock again her cheeks, her lips and around her mouth. He stared at her, as she submitted, eyes closed, mouth open, waiting. Finally his cock eased into her waiting mouth.

She moaned low in her throat and engulfed him unto his coarse pubic hairs brushed against her lips at the base of his cock. He pulled out the scrunchie that was holding her ponytail and let her hair cascade around her face, brushing against the man's bare thighs. Her lips slid along his shaft with long slow strokes, teasing the underside of his cock with her tongue. She had always loved sucking cock and for the time being she had forgotten all of her promises, all of her vows. The only thing she needed was to get fucked, hard and fast. A small part of her knew that she was reaching a dangerous point of no return but she ignored it in favor of the aching between her legs, the void that needed to be filled.

When she finally felt her skirt being slid up around her hips she smiled around her mouthful of cock. Two fingers sank into her to the hilt and she spread her legs to accommodate them.

"Oh man, Pete, this chick can suck cock!" the man on the chair gasped and she felt him arch his back as his hand tightened in her hair. Pete was apparently the name of the janitor. In response Pete grunted as he positioned his cock at the entrance of her dripping hole. She arched her back to invite him in and he slid the length of his cock into her with no resistance. She closed her eyes and immersed herself in the familiar rhythm of sucking and fucking. The passion inside here was being fed, that small voice wondered if she would be able to return to a place of self-control. "Aw, fuck, I'm gonna cum," the man on the chair rammed his cock against the back of her throat and then pulled her mouth off and pumped jet after jet of hot semen on her face and her tits. The feeling of the hot seed against her cool skin caused her to growl low in her throat and shove her hips back against the thrusting from behind, eyes locked on the man in front of her. Behind her the janitor ("Pete" she thought wildly) began to grunt with each thrust as his hand reached around and teased her clit. The wave of orgasm hit her out of nowhere, throwing her forward onto the new guys lap, face buried in his crotch as she cried out with pleasure. Had Pete cum? A few more hard thrusts answered her question as he let out a low moan, almost a growl and slammed into her one final time and froze, trembling. After a few seconds he pulled out of her and sat back on the floor.

She looked up at the guy in the chair, his hand was back on his cock pumping it slowly, staring at her, cum dripping off her face. She sat down next to Pete and spread her legs in the guy's direction. Sliding two fingers into her hole she slowly pumped them in and out staring at the guy through half closed eyelids. Hanging onto his rock hard cock he knelt down between her legs and positioned himself at the opening of her slit oozing cum out onto the floor. He eased it into her up to the hilt and began to slowly slide it in and out, one hand on each knee, keeping her legs spread wide. "Man you've got a tight little pussy for a whore," the guy grunted. "You like that? You like getting fucked like a whore?"

Carrie laughed wildly, then moaned, laying back on the mat and spreading her legs farther apart. The guy began to quicken the pace. He seemed less enthusiastic now that Carrie no longer seemed to be in distress. The more she seemed to like it the harder he fucked her. Carried smiled between gasps. What he didn't know was that he could never fuck her hard enough. No one ever had. Finally he grabbed her knees and pressed them back and apart and began slamming into her. "Yeah, you're a whore all right. Suck Pete's cock. I wanna watch you suck his cock." She was more than happy to oblige. Pete appeared out of nowhere stroking himself, his dick still glistening with her juices. She was lying on her back. He positioned himself on his knees beside her head. She took him in one hand and began furiously sucking him off. She didn't hold back. Pete arched his back and moaned. He cupped her head in his hands and she could feel them trembling. All of his aggressiveness from the day before was gone. It was a shame really, there was so much less pleasure when the hunt was over.

Pete's friend was pounding into her, grunting and growling. He looked angry. Grabbing her knees he pulled out roughly, and fucked her while he continued watching her suck Pete's cock. Pete was trembling, and moaning quietly. "Oh God, oh God," he kept saying, over and over. His hands grabbed her head and he began to fuck her face. Carrie moaned with desire to match his grunting with each thrust, until he sent spurt after spurt of hot seed against the back of her throat. He collapsed, breathless on the mat.

"Bitch, I don't think you understand how serious the situation is for you." Said the voice of Pete's friend behind her. She turned and looked at him. "We know all about your little escapades at your last school, and the one before that. And that little stunt you pulled last night? With Pete? Well, let's just say that that one is definitely 'on the record.'" Her stomach sank.

"What are you talking about?"

A low chuckle erupted from Pete's friend as he pulled a remote control from his pocket aimed it into the darkness and momentarily blinded Carrie with the light from the TV that flashed on. Then she heard it, the moaning, the begging. It was her on her back on the gym mats begging Pete to fuck her. Horror washed over her as she watched the scene unfold. She was so wrapped up in the tape that she had not noticed the man come around behind her until he whispered in her ear. "So you see, Carrie, you are going to be our little pet. As long as you play nice, this tape will stay in my private collection." She moaned. Watching the tape was horrifying and electrifying, she was disgusted with herself for doing it and even more so for getting arouse watching it. "Get on your knees pet."

She was caught, it was clear. Getting on her knees all she could think about was revenge, however long it took, 'and it might just take a while', thought her darker side, smiling. As Pete's friend began pounding her from behind she watched the tape. Things had changed that was certain, but she had a feeling that even with the tape, these guys were in over their heads. With her last few moments of coherent thought before she gave over to the animal in her she thought of all they knew and all they didn't know. They thought they could keep a tiger as a pet. . . well, the next few months were going to be . . . interesting.

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NOTE: This is the last of my contributions to Carrie's story. If you are a writer and are interested in picking up the thread you have my permission.