This is my first story. Please feel free to give detailed feedback about the writing, style, and plot. The story may be rather long and will probably get quite dark by the end... just a warning. Also, I am aware that there is a suspension of disbelief required for this story; hopefully the plot and writing make that irrelevant. Enjoy.
*****
Tears rolled softly down Amanda's face and fell, one by one, onto her right hand. Her dampened wrist continued to flex back and forth, methodically stroking three of her fingers into her pussy. She had never felt so absolutely and terrifyingly alone as she did right now. Her back ached from slouching in the wooden chair and the backs of her knees were sore, draped over each arm of the utilitarian dorm seating. Her masturbation had enticed an initial response of wetness, but the prolonged duration and the tense emotion of the situation had long since brought an end to her secretions. She was starting to feel raw. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something that could pass for a decent lubricant.
"Remove your fingers."
The words appeared in stark white lettering on the blackened screen of her computer screen. Relief washed over her as she read the words and complied with them before she had even processed the statement. Here pupils contracted as the stress of the situation lightened; the dark brown irises reclaimed their territory. Her respite was very short lived.
"Put them in your mouth. Slowly. Index first. Then add each."
Amanda's mind spiraled and her emotions reared. The new message brought forth a startled cough like she had the wind knocked out of her. Her eyes dropped from the screen and focused on the sticky fingers of her right hand still hovering over her now empty sex. She had never. She couldn't.
"Clean them. Thoroughly."
She started to cry in earnest, the tears rolling down unconstrained as first her index finger slid past her pale lips, eventually followed by the others. She followed her orders exactly. She cried as she tasted her juices for the first time. The sweet flavor was not unpleasant but it was unwelcome and it created a bad first impression. Tears and slobber from her fingers dripped down her nude front as she bawled. Amanda was a flat-chested girl with barely the slightest swell of breast and as she cried her ribs were outlined starkly during each sob.
Amanda's mind slid further into darkness. Her three fingers made her mouth feel so full. They had just been in her pussy. Filling her. She had touched herself in the past; masturbated, sure. But she just used one finger, sometimes two. And she didn't plunge them into her sex. She circled her clitoris, gently but speedily, until she felt the tingle that spread across her body.
This had been so different. Amanda's sex had clearly strained to accept her third finger and her body was unaccustomed to the sensation of fullness. Her pussy had squeezed her fingers tightly and clung to her each time her hand pulled back. It was a new and uniquely stimulating sexual feeling, but under the circumstances it seemed to be so dirty, so wrong.
The events of the preceding fifteen minutes played out through her mind in fast forward. This time had been so different. This time hadn't been about her pleasure but someone else's. It was upon this reflection that the shame began to creep into her heart. She had been coerced, forced, even raped by the mysterious messenger. Not only violated by his instructions, but also by her own hand.
She thought about the events two weeks earlier as she sucked the last of her secretions from her fingers...
***
College had been going really well for the first few weeks, Amanda thought, as she packed up her toiletries. Her roommate had turned out to be quiet but very friendly and her college classes were an exciting new experience; slightly challenging but much more independent than her experiences back at Grayson High. She glanced into the somewhat spotted mirror and checked to make sure she had fully rinsed her face. None of the other sinks in the dorm's communal bathroom were any better or worse than this one. Everything looked a bit worn, but that was to be expected when staying in a historic building that dated back to the pre-war era of the 20
th
century. It was just one of many sources of character, or charm, that made the university such a great place to live she thought to herself as she brushed her hair back a final time. The dark brown shoulder length tresses draped into their usual slight curl. She was hoping for something reminiscent of Emma Watson, since they had a similar facial structure, but it just never seemed to land right. Amanda gave herself a quick shrug in the mirror and headed out the door.
As Amanda opened the door two other girls entered at the same time, causing an unexpected traffic jam in the otherwise empty room. Amanda briefly stumbled and stepped out of the way to let her dorm-mates in. She tried to place names to their faces. Maybe Rachel and Chloe, she thought? It had only been a month and she hadn't really gotten to know every girl on her floor yet.