Before she had pulled away from the curb, her phone pinged with multiple notifications: a message from Dr. Thatcher and something from the chat room. She stopped, pulled over and followed the link to the clinic's messaging system. Opening the inbox, she read the results of her appointment and a private message from Dr. Thatcher including three links to information about multiple sex partners, triple penetration and safe anal sex practices. She shook her head and wondered what the fuck was going on. Swearing under her breath at the chat room message she pulled out from the curb, driving until she got back to her apartment. Grabbing her bag, she ran up the steps to her door, and once inside, flung the bag to the floor before peeling her clothes off. Her underwear was completely sopped, her jeans showing a growing stain. Only after she'd washed herself did she look at her phone.
"Shit!" Two messages from Car and three notifications from the chat room.
? How's it going? Was the doctor cute?
??? where are you?
Hey! I just got back...It was...predictable...I guess
Predictable? Was the doctor cute? Did he have huge hands? Did he push his fingers into you really deep?
Gross, Car!
Smiley
. "he" was a she, and she was really gentle. It was a little weird though. They made me strip and stay naked the entire time. Even for the consult afterward.
Hmmmm, I wish I could have been there to see that.
I'm so wet! I've been soaking everything next to me. I had to wait to sit down in her office until her nurse brought a liner! So horrible!
Did you cum yet?
IDK. I don't think so. But the good news is I'm healthy!
Smiley
Smiley
Except we don't know the results of the blood work. But you were tested just before we got together, right?
Silence.
Car?
Sorry. Dropped out. Yes. I was clean six months ago and I've been careful.
She stopped at that, knowing that Car had other relationships and wondering if she had put Tee at risk. Well, they'd find out soon enough.
I'm beat, C. It's been a huge day. Love you.
Love you sweetlips. Think of me. I'll be home soon.
Really? Soon? Like when?
Doctors say maybe Aunt T can go home in a week and I'll probably stick around for a day or so after that to make sure she's okay on her own. Next week, T!
Please call me as soon as you can! I miss you!
Red Telephone.
Hah!
She grabbed three towels and put them on the sofa to absorb her liquid and turned to the chat room.
Get back to me as soon as you read this.
I'm here.
I see you passed the physical with flying colors.
Thumbs up.
Send me a picture of yourself as you are. Right now.
She sighed and stood up, walking to the full length mirror next to the entry. She took the shot and loaded it into the room.
Dr. said you were lubricating 'copiously.' Is that normal for you?
Fuck. FUCK. FUCK!!
I don't know what this is. Is this normal? I've been wet since last night and everything I've done today has made me wetter.
She needed to tell him whatever he asked. She
knew
that. Car had taught her as much. She felt her pussy pulse.
You should begin packing a few things and prepare to move in over here. Toiletries, school clothes, plan for at least two weeks away. Make a list of the foods you like; if you've got some you want to bring with you, pack that too.
She stared at her phone and swore. What was she getting into? Where was this leading? If Car was coming back next week, where would that put them?
K
She felt herself oozing. Giving up her privacy. Giving up her independence. Her nipples stiffened and she cursed.
No playing with yourself. Don't stay up too late you have a test tomorrow.
She watched as his avatar went grey.
Fuck you, she cursed him silently, but smiled at the weird dynamic. Her professor. Her Dom. She ran her fingertips along her ribs, up to her breasts, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She tweaked a nipple, feeling the tingling and warmth. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the feeling. It wasn't enough to do anything but tease, but she had to stop before she went further.
She looked at the time. 6:17. Homework, dinner. Homework. Pack.
Fuck.
But first she had to put a load of laundry in. Which meant putting clothes on, but she couldn't stand how sticky she was, and the prospect of washing herself, again, was getting old. She gathered up her clothes, dumped them in a hamper and thought about how to protect the furniture and her clothes from her constant seepage.
She grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and was about to slip them on. "Do we even have any pads?" The thought occurred to her that at least for a little while she could keep her clothes and furniture dry. They didn't use pads and she didn't think a tampon would do the trick. Rummaging in the bathroom cabinet she found a Maxi-pad and pressed it into her panties. She threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, grabbed the laundry and rushed down to do a load.
After coming back, she peeled off her clothes to see if the sweats were stained.
Finally.
She pulled off the t and took small satisfaction she was at least avoiding dirtying her clothes and staining the chairs. She faced the evening: homework first or dinner? Or packing? Fuck no. Not packing. She couldn't face the prospect of what that meant. Not on an empty stomach. As if on cue, she felt it growl and turned to the kitchen.
An hour later, her hunger abated and at least one reading assignment behind her, she stared at her reflection in the window as she washed the dishes. The expression of the bare chested young woman who looked back at her flitted from judgmental to amused to scared. She looked from her forehead down her face, admiring her smile and lips.
Fuckin' great smile
she thought, smiling. Down to her collarbone which she really liked about herself - the small ridges stretching her skin held an attraction to members of both sexes. It was why she chose the tops she wore. She stopped her downward inspection at her breasts, staring at her nipples, stiffening it seemed at her own self-appraisal. How many times had she looked at those breasts during the day? Dozens? Hundreds? The water vapor, rising from the sink blurred her reflection, but she continued to stare. So flat. "Just bumps on a board!" The memory of her middle school rivals teasing her in the locker room when their own breasts had pushed out.
When had that all changed?
She returned her attention to the dishes, the warmth of the water combining with an internal warmth from the memory of her shift in self-image: when she paraded her nudity that last year in high school and suddenly found herself surrounded by sexual partners. She giggled a little at how naïve she'd been and how easily she'd been able to snag boys or girls simply by embracing her physicality. Drying her hands, she revisited for the thousandth time the really big change in her sexual life that summer before she left for college. Her first encounter with submission and pain washed over her brain, and she moaned as her vagina oozed at the memory.
Her folks had left for the weekend
: that's how the story always started.
Fuck. I don't have time for this.
But she was so aroused.
You can't do this! He'll punish you!
And the thought, combined with that first time that summer only heightened her need.
You can't! You can't touch yourself! Think of anything else! When Scruffy died! Anything!
Her memory of her dog's passing momentarily distracted her and she pulled away from the sink to grab her book, looking down and reminding herself she was only in her underwear and her heart jumped again at the memory.
When he tied you up and told you what he was going to do to you...
She closed her eyes and moaned. The memory of Aidan's hands, peeling her clothes off, of his soft voice explaining how he would slowly test her limits. Her pussy clenched and she realized the pad was soaked. Her thoughts returned to the examination from earlier today and how Dr. Thatcher had stripped her bare, making her reveal her need so clinically. She felt moisture leaking down the inside of her thigh.
It's all toooo much!!
She had so much to do still and she couldn't focus.
Maybe he'll let me cum if I beg him?
She shook her head at how stupid she was being, but didn't stop herself from signing into the chat room and pinging him, hoping he was still online. She walked to the bedroom to try and do homework, grabbing a clean towel to protect her chair.
Nothing. I'm such an idiot.
Fuck! I've got to change the laundry!
Pulling her underwear away from her waist she saw the stain around the pad's edges and shook her head. She pulled on her clothes and ran downstairs to move the load into the dryer.
Back in her room she quickly removed her sweats and t, and pulled down her underwear.
Calculus. Focus on calculus.
It took at least ten minutes of wrapping herself in her robe and double-folding the towel to shift her attention away from her arousal.
Two hours later and she had finished; the memories of her first time as a submissive seeping into her thoughts over and over again. She hadn't allowed them to do more than distract her momentarily, forcing herself to stay focused on the math. She was a mess: her robe was soaked between her legs. The towel had absorbed everything else; at least the chair had been protected. She stood up and remembered the load.
