Author's Notes: All characters are over 18. You will NOT enjoy this story if you have problems with reluctant gay sex or with men being humiliated. The story is in two parts and concluded in the second.
This is the first part of a two-part story involving cuckolding, humiliation, and a piss-fetish. The story builds very slowly in my opinion, which might be annoying. There are parts that border on reluctant gay sex, and in the second part this will escalate. There are some stereotypes based on gender. If you have a hard time with any of this or with verbal or physical degradation, then this story is not recommended.
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After a year abroad, Amy returned to a mix-up with the apartments. Through sheer luck, she found a vacant room in a dorm for a few weeks until the situation could be resolved, but life as a dormitory resident was quite a transition after the freedom and independence of exchange studies.
Still, the dorm was a blessing in disguise because that's where she met Andy. It didn't take long to notice something about him worthy of deeper investigation.
You could sense his overwhelming insecurity in every social interaction. Speaking to her, he often couldn't meet her eyes without an overly forced effort, following some typical self-help instruction, probably. On rare occasions, she managed to get a good-enough look, and then she saw awe in his eyes.
Last year, she had transformed from a mousy, down-dressed young student with excellent grades and poor social skills to someone carrying herself in an objectively attractive way. Her very prominent breasts had always drawn stares, so she had learned to accentuate them. It had excited her to realize how lucky she was. Men had started staring at her curves, and everyone had adored her hair, flowing in reddish-brown curls down over those breasts.
Andy was not in the same league. He was a couple of inches shorter than her, and his gangly, weak limbs made him appear to be half her size. His mommy's boy style was completed by a cheap, mouse-brown haircut and baby-smooth, beard-less cheeks.
As much of a wimp as he was, you could tell by the way he looked at her that he had the same sexual appetites as any guy. He kept sneaking glances of her breasts from the side when he thought she didn't notice. Compared to him, she was perfect, and it made her a little wet in her cunt to see his admiration. She wondered how far he would be willing to go to keep his dreams about her alive.
Her own sexuality had become more complex. She had grown up a dutiful girl, fascinated from a distance by muscular, testosterone-brimming guys. She had always dreamed about worshiping a perfect physical specimen, but on the other hand she'd also had fantasies about taming one of them, being worshiped herself. Over the last year away from home, some serious fucking had made her start to understand how tame boys didn't really turn her on at all.
But with Andy, maybe there was a way to have it both ways.
He was 22, and she was 23. Apparently, he studied something technical and was very good at it, which would become profitable for him in the future no doubt. Her penchant for dissecting people's thoughts had led her to psychology, and now she majored in violence caused by homophobia, which was very topical these days, although she had secretly chosen it because the violence aspect sometimes turned her on.
At night, when she had her fingers between her legs, a lot of things secretly turned her on. Deep down, she had urges that would disgust many, and since meeting Andy, she had hopes about living out a few secret fantasies.
* * *
The confirmation that he might have something to offer came an early night when they were alone in the common room of the dorm, watching a film. They had ended up this way on a few occasions lately.
"I don't feel like getting up," she teased her little wimp boy. "Why don't you go make me some tea, just because you love me so much?"
Without question, he got up, and it made her cunt a little juicier to see how he instantly obeyed her. The perfect cup returned in his hands minutes later, and between his legs there were signs of what appeared to be a very small erection. Something made this weak, unmanly young wimp enjoy servitude.
"You've obviously payed attention to how I like my tea," she said after some musing. "I could thank you for the cup. But I don't really have to, do I? You'd just do anything to be around me, wouldn't you?"
"I-I don't know," was all he could get out. "Yes, I was useful. It's all I want to do, to be useful."
Andy had no idea what else to say, and since he was desperate not to say anything wrong, he locked up completely, getting nothing out in response. As much as he tried to hide it, both of them recognized his state of catatonic distress. He twisted uncomfortably, looking back and forth across the floor while his face twitched.
She started asking him about life, and in his usual way he answered every question honestly.
Yes, he knew he was odd, but he considered himself normal enough. It was just that he was shy, and he wasn't very interested in things that interested most people.
Yes, he was interested in sex, and he wanted to experience it, but he agreed that odds worked against a weirdo such as himself. Also, he thought he had a very small penis, and he brought it up as a problem for him right off the bat. Amy persuaded him that he would probably never be happy with a woman. Most likely, he would end up alone. If he got rich and found someone, she'd be fat and ugly, or something else would be wrong.
"In your case especially," she clarified. "You're really in love with me, aren't you?"
"I-I, yes," he stuttered, summoning an impressive amount of courage to acknowledge his actual feelings. "I mean, I-I, yes."
"So I'll make you a deal," she continued. "I'll let you hang around sometimes if you make it worth it for me."
"Wha-What do you want?"
So far, there didn't appear to be an aggressive or self-justified bone in his body, which set him apart from most geeks she had met. He was simply in love with her, and now he was so afraid of losing her that she might get away with anything. She spent a few seconds thinking before she decided.
"This film is good," she said. "I don't want to miss it to do my dishes. Go and do my dishes for me!"
His eyes lit up as if he had just solved some important logic puzzle, and he got up and did what she had asked without question, returning a few minutes later in silence. She explained that she wanted him to do her dishes from now on. She would just leave them in the kitchen for him. He agreed.
He seemed to be waiting for more.
"And you seem to be good at studying," she took her chance to push things further. "I want you to look up how to give a really good foot massage until next time we have film night."
He agreed again. They said their goodnights, and he got up to leave, but again she interrupted.
"Tell me you love me!" she instructed him.
