Becky was pacing around her dorm room, her nipples stiff as the cool air caressed her nude body. She was deep in thought, ignoring her roommate, whom she had stripped and tied to a chair after the girl had fixed her breakfast over an hour ago. The whine of the vibrator buried deep inside Jenna's pussy mixed with the poor girl's moans, had become nothing more than white noise at this point. Jenna's moans were muffled by the ball gag in her mouth.
"What is wrong with Mom?" Becky asked again, glancing at Jenna. The poor girl was in the throes of another orgasm; only the whites of her eyes were visible, and her skin, completely soaked in sweat, was a nice, deep blotchy red.
"I guess the only way to figure this out is to go see her," Becky reasoned. With the speed that comes with lots of practice, she released Jenna from her bondage and guided her to the bed.
Jenna needed no instructions. She lay on her back, guiding Becky's soaked pussy to her mouth. In just a few minutes, Becky orgasmed, squirting over Jenna's face and chest.
Momentarily satisfied, Becky climbed off Jenna and dressed.
Before she left, she tossed a couple of large dildos at Jenna. The smaller one was about the size of Jenna's forearm with the larger one closer to the size of the lower part of her leg.
"Start with the smaller one until you get comfortable with it. I expect you to be able to get the larger one in without help by the end of the week. Understand?"
Jenna trembled as she picked up the two dildos. They were far larger than anything she had put inside her pussy so far, and she wasn't sure that they would fit. Ever since the first week of living in the same dorm room as Becky, she had no choice with anything she did. Looking at Becky, Jenna knew that she had no choice but to try.
"Yes, Mistress," Jenna said, a quiver in her voice the only indication that she was afraid.
"Good girl. I might not be back tonight. If you need anything, call Emily."
Jenna shuddered. She enjoyed the things her mistress made her do, but Emily was entirely different. Emily enjoyed tormenting her.
Becky finished packing an overnight bag and walked out the door, leaving Jenna wondering how she had gone from a high school cheerleader who had the pick of the football team to a submissive lesbian in less than a month of college.
************************************************************************************************************
The drive to her parent's apartment was uneventful, which did nothing to distract Becky from the internal conflict she felt from her mother lying to her.
Is she having an affair, or was it worse?
Becky thought as images of her mother doing drugs or being forced into prostitution flashed through her mind.
She pulled into a parking spot near her mom's car.
It's still in the same spot it was in yesterday
, she thought as she walked by it toward the building her parents lived in.
The only hesitation she had was at the door. Becky didn't know if she wanted to know what was going on. Her mother was one of the few people she admired.
She paused a few seconds before she knocked.
No answer, just like yesterday.
A few seconds went by with no answer, so she knocked again.
Still no answer.
Becky was digging in her purse for the spare key when she heard the locks being turned.
Jen opened the door and found her youngest daughter standing there, her hand in her purse.
"Getting ready to let yourself in?" Jen asked, smirking.
"Ahhhh, no," Becky retreated, releasing the keys.
Her mom just raised her eyebrows.
"Fine, you caught me," Becky smiled, sticking her tongue out.
"Well, since you were going to unlock the door, you might as well come in," Jen stepped aside, walking away from the door.
Becky watched her mom walk toward the kitchen.
It looks like she has lost weight, and what is up with the red hair?
she thought, frowning. Her mom had never dyed her hair before.
Jen sat down, picked up a cup of coffee, and took a drink.
Becky grabbed her favorite cup from the cupboard and fixed herself a cup before sitting across from her mother.
"So, why red?" Becky asked, deciding to get the new hair color out of the way first.
Shit
, Jen had forgotten Doris had dyed her hair yesterday.
Jen worked hard to keep her face neutral, took another drink, and replied.
"It's been really boring around here, so I decided to try something new," Jen looked into her coffee.
"It's been that way since your dad's out-of-town assignment started," she didn't even look up.
Becky picked up on the bitterness in her mother's voice.
"Sorry, Mom," Becky softened, wondering if she should have come by more often. Then she remembered her mother had lied about being home yesterday.
"I'm sure Dad isn't having any fun being out of town without you," Becky assured her mother.
Time to change the subject
, Becky thought, "Any plans for today?"
Jen grimaced. The stress and extracurricular activities Camila had her doing had started to impact her work, and it was showing. Her boss had made a comment a few days ago about her productivity dropping.
"I've got a report that needs to be finished for work."
She glanced at her daughter.
"I guess that will be most of my day," Jen declared, the bitterness still in her voice.
Mom needs to talk to someone, Becky thought, grabbing her mother's hand and holding it gently.
"You know I am always just a phone call away."
"I know. You also have your own life, Beca," Jen finally smiled, finding it ironic that her daughter was trying to mother her.
"If you won't call me, I have the numbers of some really good therapists."
"I don't need a therapist," Jen assured her daughter.
"You need someone to talk to," Becky insisted.
"Let's just drop this, okay?" Jen wanted to talk about anything else right then. Well, almost anything else. She was still trying to piece together what had happened last night. She got flashes of men pawing at her, and based on how sore her body was, part of her was glad she didn't remember.
"For now...," Becky stated firmly, looking at her mother over the rim of her coffee cup.
"You are so much like your dad sometimes," Jen rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling, so Becky took that as a win.
They visited for a little while before Becky left so her mother could work on her report.
Since she was already in the building, she decided to stop and see Donald.
She knocked on the door, and a few minutes later, a disheveled woman answered. Her hair was a mess, and her mascara had run like she had been crying. Taking in the fact her blouse was wrinkled and one button off, Becky thought she knew what had happened.
"Can I help..." the woman started to ask Becky before Becky cut her off.
"Go get Donald."
"I'm. That is. He."
Becky pushed past the woman and walked into the apartment.
"Hey, who the hell do you think you are?"
"Donald!" Becky shouted, ignoring the woman who was trying to grab her arm.
"Hey, Becky," Donald looked sheepishly at her from the couch, his pants and underwear around his ankles.
"You can't be in here," the woman shouted back, finally grabbing Becky's arm now that she had stopped moving.
Becky twisted and pushed, easily tossing the other woman onto the living room floor.
"Don't ever touch me without my permission, you fucking skank!" Becky snapped, her entire body dripping anger.
The other woman looked shocked and ready to cry. Becky didn't care. Her fury shifted to Donald.
"What the fuck is going on, Donald?" Becky knew her nostrils flared when she was pissed. It added to her anger for some reason.
"I was horny, and well, she was here, so I decided to..." As he spoke, the volume and tone of his voice kept dropping under the withering gaze Becky was giving him.
"You decided what? Have the little slut give you a blowjob? Fuck her? What did your dick decide for you, Donald?" Becky asked as she walked toward him. He sank as far back into the couch cushions as possible.
"I just wanted to have a little fun," he shrugged, sulking.
"If you wanted to have a little fun, you could have called me. Who knows, I might have come over, and if you were a good boy, I might have let you fuck me."
Becky lifted her foot and put her shoe on Donald's cock, the thin heel resting on the center of his balls.
"Sorry, Becky," Donald apologized, looking between her eyes and her foot resting on his balls.
"Who the fuck is she?" Becky demanded, pushing down slightly as she turned her attention back to the woman cowering on the floor.
"Her name is Cathy. She used to live next door. Mom gets her to watch me every once and a while."
Becky looked over the other woman. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties, with short, dirty blonde hair. Her slim build made her apple-sized breasts look larger than they were.
"Ever fuck the slut?" Becky asked, enjoying humiliating the other woman who looked shocked at the question.
"Yes," Donald said, looking away from Becky.
Cathy blushed and looked at the floor.
Becky pulled her foot off Donald and walked up behind Cathy, grabbing a handful of Cathy's hair.
"When was the first time?" Becky inquired, forcing Cathy to look up at her.
Donald cleared his throat. "A few years ago, I guess, right after I turned eighteen. She moved in next door with her husband, Dumbass."
Cathy winced when Donald called her husband Dumbass.
"I was pissed that Mom thought I still needed a sitter but got over that when Cathy came in. She was wearing yoga pants that showed off her tight little ass. I fucked her twice before mom got back that night. Ever since then, every time Cathy watches me, I fuck her," Donald bragged as he stroked his cock.
Cathy looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and bury herself.
"What about her husband? He knows that his little bride was over here getting fucked?" Becky asked, pulling Cathy up onto her knees by her hair.
"Ouch! Fuck! That hurts!" Cathy complained, grabbing onto Becky's hands.
"Get your fucking hands down," Becky scolded her, leaning down until their faces were just inches apart.
Cathy hesitated a second before dropping her hands, more afraid of Becky than the pain.
"What does your husband say about your fucking Donald, Skank?" Becky grilled, pulling Cathy's hair harder, forcing her head back and to the side.
"Nothing anymore. We're divorced," she said through gritted teeth as tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Why? He found out that you were fucking the eighteen-year-old next-door neighbor?"
