Head Games At School Ch 01

Trish was on her knees, crying, sobbing actually. She had come to me to apologize. "Ken I'm so sorry. I can't believe what I did to you. You must hate me. Please, please forgive me. I had no idea you did the right thing. I heard you practically raped that girl. I was told a lie and I went with it. Please tell me you forgive me!"

I was angry. I was furious. This cock teasing bitch had humiliated me. And for what? So she could play her vicious head games, totally convinced I deserved it. Well, fuck you, Trish.

Trish and I were students at university together, both in our final year. We both lived in dorms, knowing each only casually over the years at school until recently. About a month earlier she had started to chat me up, coming on strong, pretending to be interested. She had asked if we could go out and I had happily agreed, thinking she was serious.

We ended up having dinner that I made for her, at an apartment I had access to and she gladly ate the steak, drank the wine and the after dinner brandy, all of which had bankrupted me for the rest of the month. Then she took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom. Smiling, she took off her jeans and panties, lay down on her back with one leg to the side, patted her vulva and said, "Start here". Direct and to the point, I thought. Okay with me. I was single and as far as I knew, so was Trish.

I gave her my best and she responded with lots of encouraging sounds. I wanted her to think I knew what I was doing, to think that her acceptance of me would be good for both of us and I was very much anticipating a night of sexual joy. She was very wet, was moving in all the right ways and moaned erotically as I put a finger in her vagina and teased a bit before adding a second finger and going to work on her spot. I had always tried to make a girl feel very good about being with me for the first time and I wanted Trish to be feeling no different. She was attractive, intelligent, athletic and very much girlfriend material. I was feeling very good about life. Giving Trish pleasure was in itself a real pleasure. From head to toe, she was attractive, but where I was at the moment, she was so incredibly beautiful. Her vulva was that of a Greek Goddess, shaved and silky smooth. Her clitoris was swelling with my oral attention and she was wet with the sweetest, slipperiest vaginal fluid I had ever been privileged to experience. She was moaning, holding my head to herself, running fingers through my hair and seemed well on her way to what I hoped was going to be the first of about a dozen climaxes.

Her moaning got louder, she started to tense, gasp, and then she came from the oral attention. I continued to massage her spot and she started to move and squeeze on my fingers, moaning even louder, her hips moving in that unmistakable way that foretold a really good one. I felt her vaginal muscles quivering as her whole body went rigid, she let out a few dirty words and came with a Big O, a really, really Big O. I listened to her gasps of ecstasy and felt very happy for her and myself both. . She lay there, and as her orgasm subsided and I gently kissed her up and down her thighs, then moving up to kiss her delicious femininity.

She put her hand over her vulva as if to protect herself, and said "I'm done. Step out while I get dressed. Then you can take me back to my dorm". I was stunned. What the fuck was this about? She sat up, looking at the puzzlement on my face and simply said "You heard me. Out". My father had taught me that men never hit women, even if they deserve it. My mother had taught me that men never abuse women in any way. Even so, it was all I could do to get up and walk away, my swollen penis so obvious under my jeans. Trish made a point of looking at it and smiled in a childlike innocent way. My face burning, I left the room.

I sat in the living room, thinking about what had happened. I hadn't been cock teased since junior high and I liked it less now than ever. What the fuck was she doing this for? I tried to think of something I had done to offend her. Nothing came to mind. I was completely confused, angry, fighting to remain composed and wondering what the hell to do next. Trish walked in and stood at the front door. "Well?" was all she said.

"Sit down, we have to talk. Tell me what that was all about."

"As if you don't know."

"I don't. I honestly don't. What the fuck have I done to deserve this?" I seldom used profanity. At least out loud. At least in front of women.

"Oh, you are so sweet, so innocent, and such a jerk. Take me home." The anger swelled to rage. I fought back the urge to get up and smack her, to strangle her.

"Trish, I don't know. What is going on?" And then she said it. The one phrase guaranteed to infuriate.

"Well, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."

"For God's sake Trish, you're not a child. Talk to me!"

"Take me home."

I sat for a few seconds, and accepted that Trish was playing me like a violin. I made up my mind to not go along with it and got up. "Okay, back we go. Just shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another word." It was a mistake, and I instantly knew it. Shit.

Trish was good. She waited until we were in my car, driving back before she said "So, how long before you admit you know what this was about?" her voice pure sincerity. I gritted my teeth, refusing to talk, refusing even to look at her. She added, "You really are a gem, a source of wonder, so full of yourself." Trish was very much enjoying this.

She kept up a sarcastic and condescending banter all the way back to her dorm, trying to get me to talk while I steadfastly refused. I knew she took that to be part of her victory and I hated myself for it. Every few minutes I simply said "Shut up Trish, just shut the fuck up." As if that was going to work.

I pulled up in front of her dorm and stared straight ahead, silent. I knew she would get in a last dig. "Thank you for a very enjoyable evening, and have a good night." She sauntered away, exaggerating the swing of her hips. Yes, I looked. Shit.

Humiliated, furious and deep into the worst case of blue balls of my life, I drove to my dorm, parked and sat. It would be impossible to sleep without a release, and I thought about how best to do that. The usual, I thought. Have a shower and get it over with, letting the evidence of my humiliation and frustration go down the drain. Trish probably knew all about blue balls. And she knew what I would have to do. More for her to gloat about. Shit.

In the shower, as I masturbated, I let myself think about giving it to Trish up her ass, raping the bitch, hearing her scream as I let all of my anger go into her ass. As I came, I felt even more humiliated. Why did I have to be doing this? What the hell was Trish going on about? What did she think I knew?

Days passed. I saw her about campus several times, and kept my eyes averted. She knew I was trying to pretend not to see her and I knew that only made her feel even more victorious. The cock teasing bitch was on top and there was nothing I could do. I thought about mouthing off to the boys about her behaviour but didn't. Old lessons from my parents, what happens in private, stays private, with no exceptions. As much as I wanted to give her some misery, I couldn't. Shit.

After a few more days, I couldn't stand it any more and asked Trish to talk to me. We were out on the grounds, people walking by, and I wanted to go somewhere private. Naturally she refused. "Trish, please, I need to know why things went wrong."

"Things went fine. I really enjoyed it. Didn't you?" Instant crimson, instant hate, instant humiliation, again. Shit. I walked away as she laughed. "Good try, little boy. Not so big any more, are you?"

Trish and I had no mutual friends so I got no help there. No one seemed to know anything, or at least they weren't letting on. I was careful to pay attention to all the chatter and banter amongst the students, but heard nothing to help me figure this out. I decided to give up and just accept that Trish was nothing but a bitch, who for reasons of her own wanted to be a bitch. Oh well, what goes around, comes around. She would get hers someday. Or that's what I hoped.

Several weeks passed and I was starting to look around for a girlfriend. I was worried that some awful rumour was circulating about me, but nothing was mentioned by anyone. Get back in the saddle, was my advise to myself, and I went about it. I was thinking that a very pretty but somewhat shy and reserved student in one of my classes had been checking me out. Time to find out and I made plans to ask her out for pizza and a movie. Not the most spectacular first date, but with her, I thought it best to go slow. Besides, I was broke. I had some gifts. Money wasn't one of them.

Then Mandy, a girl I had known since first year, but only as an acquaintance, approached me with a very odd question. "Ken, what the hell happened at that party over at Jefferson House last month? Trish Simpson says you made a total ass of yourself, that you took advantage of some freshman girl who was totally wasted. She said you took her into a bedroom and fucked her silly when she didn't even know what planet she was on. That doesn't sound like you. What is she talking about?"

An epiphany. It all became so clear. Trish had been punishing me, but she had it all wrong. She wasn't at the party. She didn't know what really happened. Some very drunk eighteen year old was putting on a show, dirty dancing, flashing and practically masturbating on the dance floor. I was chatting with a couple of lady friends, as we watched the performance, when the over sexed and very drunk girl came up to me and started to drag me to the nearest bedroom. I was not willing to do anything with her, my parent's rules still very real in my memory. I let her get me into the room, but inside, I would set her straight. She shut the door and started taking off her jeans. "Fuck me. Fuck me right now. Do it" I was surprised she could still get the words out.

"Good Lord girl, you are far too drunk to be making this kind of decision. There's the bed, sleep it off." And I walked out. I wasn't in there for more than a few seconds. One of my friends said something about 'Wham, bam, thank you mam.' The other made a joke about a new world's record for premature ejaculation, which I actually thought was quite funny.

"She's way to drunk to be here. If my dad ever heard that I boinked a drunken teenager, he would come after me with a whip. And mom would give me one of her 'I'm very disappointed looks'."I chuckled, trying to make a joke out of it. But I was serious. My parents had done their best to raise me to be a decent guy. Disappointing my own mother would cut me like a knife. We chatted a bit more and just before I left, I peeked into the bedroom. The girl was passed out and very much alone.

"Trish Simpson told you that? No freaking way did I do that. She is so wrong." I told Mandy what really happened and she said that Trish had told her exact opposite, but that she really didn't think I would take advantage of a girl that way.

"Besides" she said," there were several people standing there who know the truth. I wonder how Trish got it so wrong."

How I wanted to tell Mandy about Trish's judgement and sexual execution of me, but I managed to pretend to laugh it off. "Tell her the truth for me, and Mandy, please don't mention this to anyone. The poor girl is going to feel bad enough as it is." I didn't let on that I meant that as a promise.

So here we were in my dorm room, Trish, devastated at her behaviour and knowing that she had been lied to by a girl she thought was her friend. She was emotionally a wreck. Having heard the truth from Mandy, she went straight to her supposed friend and asked why she had lied. "Because last year, at a party, you moved in on the guy I wanted, and he ignored me for the rest of the night and took you home instead of me."

"You filthy bitch! You fucking, fucking bitch!" was all Trish could sputter as she understood the one time friend's intentions. Revenge. Envy and revenge.

"Just between the two of us, I think you were the only one that did any fucking that night. But I must say, I'm surprised you didn't go around bad mouthing Ken. You're such a bitch yourself, asshole! Now get out of my room!"

Trish had waited two days to finally talk to me. I spent those days wondering how she was going to handle it, if she was going to do something about it at all and generally thinking about the possibilities. Parents be damned, this girl's ass was grass. All of the anger, the humiliation and the frustration simmered inside and I thought about what, if anything, I could do to make her as miserable as she had made me. Revenge was new to me. I had never really needed it. So far, my personal life at university had gone well. The few times I had been teased back in high school, I really didn't care about. But this was different. Senior university women are not supposed to be adolescent girls. I felt a darkness inside my soul that I had never felt before. My mother would not approve of the thoughts I was having. But she was far away and so were my civilized thought patterns. All I wanted to do was make Trish hurt, in every way I could make her hurt. And here she was, down on her knees, begging forgiveness.

As a senior, I had a dorm room to myself. Trish had finally come to my dorm and knocked on my door. I was actually a little surprised to see her. I thought she would have chosen a safer, more public place to talk it out. But here she was. I had let her in, closed the door and just stood there radiating anger. She was actually wringing her own hands, at first unable to look me in the eyes, unable to get the words out. Then, "I'm sorry," and she started to cry. I let her cry, not moving, not saying a word, offering no sign of anything resembling the warmth I had felt for her before she said " I'm done." I wanted her to think I was cold and I was cold. I wanted to see her squirm, to crawl, to feel the very contempt that she had expressed for me. And then some.

Trish actually got down on her knees, as if she was begging for her life. She started to talk and the words poured out, in between sobs. She told me that she had always had a crush on me, that she thought I was so wonderful, a big man on campus, star of the hockey team, honours student, a gorgeous hunk and so on. I was a little taken aback. Yes I was some of those things, but "big man on campus"? I didn't think that way. I just went about trying to get good grades and do well on the ice for the school that had given me a full scholarship and my only opportunity to get an education. My parents would never have been able to send me to a big university. They had scrimped just to keep me in hockey gear. I felt a tinge of guilt at the thoughts I had been having about Trish, then the coldness, the darkness returned. Damn it, I had always tried to live up to my parent's expectations and look what that had gotten me. I had turned down an easy teen score and Trish had, in her own special way, made me pay for doing the right thing. She had been lied to, but she hadn't the consideration to actually check out the story. She just made up her mind to hurt me. Bitch.

Trish kept talking, almost as if her life depended on it. How she always wanted me but was afraid to ask. How she thought I was such a great guy compared to the usual jocks on campus, who collected panties on a weekly basis. And how shattered she was when she heard the story of my treatment of a naïve, drunken teenager. How much she felt like I had been living a lie and needed to be brought down.

All I let myself hear was "brought down". I let the anger rise, feeling a sense of power I had never felt before. "Shut up. Not another word. Shut the fuck up and listen. And don't get up." Mother would be aghast. Mother would never know. "All you had to do was check out the story, that bullshit story. Or you could have talked to me. Would that have been so difficult? After I dropped you off that night and came back here, what the fuck do you think I did, just so I could fall asleep? You miserable cock teasing bitch. You know what I had to do, don't you? Don't you!"

Trish never raised her head, just nodded yes. She still couldn't look me in the eyes. I felt she owed me, owed me big time and I did something I had never done before. Standing in front of her, with her down on her knees, I opened my zipper and moving aside my shorts, I pulled out my already thickening penis. All I said was "You can leave whenever you want." Somehow I was certain she wasn't going to leave.

"I'll do anything you want. Anything. I want to make it up to you."

"Fuck you. All you want to do is buy my silence." I hadn't said anything to anybody about Trish's tease. She knew that. If I had, the entire campus would be buzzing. I was sure that Trish really wanted to make it up to me. I was also certain she didn't want her tease to be public information. I felt a sense of control, a sense of power I had never felt before. Trish's ass was not only grass, it was mine. She took me into her mouth.

I had never forced a woman into giving me sex, especially using emotion blackmail as a weapon. I was thrilled at how easy it was, how good it felt. I stood and let her give me the oral sex, trying to think of ways to prolong the pleasure. I didn't want Trish to make me come quickly. I wanted her to have to work at it.

"Jesus, woman, is that the best you can do? I was getting better blow jobs in elementary school." Certainly not true, but it felt so good to humiliate the one who had so painfully humiliated me. Trish was actually putting her heart into it. She was good I thought, but not great. Lack of practice was my scornful and out of character opinion. What was happening to me? I had never thought this way before.

With my power rush coursing through my head and my penis in Trish's mouth, there was no way I wasn't going to come. Did she swallow? Did I care? I used to care. "Make sure you take it all. Not a drop goes anywhere but down your miserable throat."

I had never even considered talking to a girl that way before. At least until Trish. It was like the world's most powerful aphrodisiac. I felt the start of an incredible orgasm, the kind I occasionally got with wet dreams. The kind that go on and on. The sense of rising pressure in my groin going up to my head, and the feeling that I was melting and flowing out of my own penis. The climax was harder and longer than any other I had experienced. I gritted my teeth, trying not to make the noises that confirmed sex in these thin walled dorm rooms. Damn but it was good!

Trish almost choked. Not a swallower. Too fucking bad. I held her head, not letting her pull away, forcing her to swallow or choke. She swallowed. And then again as I poured into her mouth. God, it felt good to do that to her. It was again, something I had never done to a woman. Not until Trish. I held her tight to me and felt her swallow one more time. Damn, that was the biggest load I had ever delivered. The dark thoughts kept coming. This wasn't sex. This was domination. She had her chance to make love, share sex or whatever the hell she wanted. That was then. This was now, an I was ecstatic. What could I do now? I felt certain that if I told her to stand up, drop her panties and bend over, she would. But to hell with giving her the satisfaction of having my penis in her vagina, stroking her to orgasm. In her ass, maybe. I almost cringed at my attitude. Where was this coming from? This was no longer my fantasy revenge. This was real. I was abusing Trish and I felt wonderful.

I stood there, with my penis in her mouth, looking down on her as she in turn looked down at the floor. She was still making a few sucking motions, almost as if she didn't want to stop. I pulled out and tucked my wet penis back into my jeans.