This is not a stand-alone chapter. Will be confusing if you do not read part 1. Enjoy!
Lacy crawled onto the bench and curled up. The light from the lamp glinted against the silver chain, mocking her. They had used her like a whore, but she wasn't a whore. She wasn't!
Lacy stumbled toward the final bench and curled up in the corner to wait. She'd scraped her knees on the concrete as the two fat guys had fucked her, and they still hurt. Almost right away, Lacy heard the sound of someone jogging. She began to tremble and her mouth filled with saliva as she thought of being fucked again. She could not be enjoying this!
The jogging stopped and she heard a gasp. "Lacy?"
The sound of Emily's voice brought relief and then panic. Lacy had to sit here for four more minutes, and she didn't want Emily to sit beside her in case a man came along.
Emily eased onto the bench beside her. "Lacy? What happened to you? Did you fall?"
"Yeah. I didn't know you jogged."
"In the summer, I jog at night when it's a little cooler. Come on back to the dorm with me and let's get you cleaned up."
Lacy glanced at Emily sharply, afraid she could smell the sex on her."
"We need to clean your knees and put some medicine on them," Emily added.
Lacy sagged in relief. "I'll meet you inside. I want to sit out here for a few minutes."
"Then I'll wait with you."
"No! I—I mean, I want to be alone."
Emily stood and looked at Lacy. She touched her face gently. "You've been crying."
Before Lacy could respond, a tall, dark-skinned man sat down on the bench. He didn't speak and Emily just stared at him. "We're having a private conversation," she told him.
"Oh, my bad."
Lacy's head jerked back and forth between the two as fear and humiliation struggled for supremacy. If she let him leave, she would be punished, but if she asked him to stay then Emily would think she was a whore.
Lacy quickly released his breasts and asked him if he'd like to touch her tits.
He chuckled. "I guess your girlfriend will catch up with you later."
Lacy saw Emily's shocked expression turn to disgust and she stormed off, leaving Lacy with the tall, dark-skinned man.
Lacy skipped class the next day and went to the Dean's office. The tall, dark-skinned man had dragged her into the woods where he'd hurt her over and over again for two hours, fucking her and hitting her tender, swollen nipples until she was crying uncontrollably. She'd dragged into her room with Emily right behind her. She'd seen Lacy's bruised and battered tits through her open shirt and told her to lie down before disappearing. She'd returned with a warm bucket of water and then gently removed Lacy's clothes before bathing her.
Lacy had tried to protest, especially when Emily reached her tits and pussy but Emily had only brushed her hands away and continued cleaning. The warm water had felt so good against her clit. Emily had spread her lips open and squeezed water onto the tender bud over and over again until Lacy had cum right in front of Emily.
Humiliated, Lacy had tried to cover herself, tried to explain, but Emily had dismissed her concern saying, "It's a natural reaction to stimulation. Don't worry about it."
But Lacy was worried—about Mr. Freemen. No matter how hard she tried to please him he still punished her. He'd turned her into a whore, and there was no telling what else he had in store for her. What was the worse he could do to her if she reported him for sexual harassment? Once the administration found out what he was doing to her, they would protect her.
Straightening her shoulders, Lacy entered the office and approached the receptionist behind the desk.
"Good morning. May I help you?"
"Y-Yes, could you tell me the procedure for filing a complaint against a professor?"
The other woman's brows lifted slightly but her demeanor remained professional. "You'll need to talk to the EOO—Equal Opportunity Officer." Her head tilted to the side. "You're majoring in music, right? Lacy Stanton?"
The usual excitement Lacy felt when people recognized her eluded her and with a quick glance around the room, she nodded. Her gaze fell on the nametag on the woman's jacket. Sheryl Carter. Lacy had heard about her. She had been considered among many to be the next Whitney Houston until she abruptly quit chorus and changed her major.
"Please have a seat. I'll speak to her secretary, and we'll get you an appointment right away.
Lacy sat down near a wooden rack and grabbed the magazine on the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sheryl speaking on the phone. There would be no going back once Lacy made the appointment. She had to do this, she told herself.
The phone rang and Lacy jumped. Her chest heaved as she tried to drag air into her tight lungs. She couldn't do this, she realized panicking. Before she could change her mind, she ran out of the room, and then the building. Once outside, she kept running with no particular destination in mind. It was late September and still warm but the sweat pouring from her forehead nearly blinded her.
Shaky, she stopped near the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water.
"Lacy, are you okay?"
Lacy turned to see Chad Carpenter peering down at her with a concerned frown marring his brows. He wasn't in the choir; they'd met in freshmen English. "Hi, Chad. Sure, just winded."
"Would you like something to eat?"
"N-no, I—I don't—"
"Come on, you have to eat. You might as well eat with me."
Lacy smiled weakly. "Okay, why not?" She trailed him into the cafeteria where they both ordered burgers. As they were sitting down, Lacy felt someone watching her and glanced around the cafeteria. Her gaze locked with Mr. Freeman's and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Her hands began to shake, and Chad took her tray from her.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, yeah. I--I," she sputtered, and then trailed off. Mr. Freeman looked angry. He couldn't know about her visit to the Dean's office, right? No, Lacy had given her name, not the professor's. Still, he looked angry. She must have done something wrong.
Lacy sat down and Chad moved his chair a little closer. She leaned away from him, keenly aware of Mr. Freeman's angry glare. The fervent beat of her heart was almost deafening. He was going to kill her, she thought wildly. Jumping up, Lacy kicked the tray with her knee, spilling her food on the table and floor. "I have to go Chad. I'll see you later."
As she ran out of the room, she noticed that Mr. Freeman was gone. Lacy ran to her dorm room and locked it behind her.
Lacy rushed into the choir room with ten minutes to spare. There was no way she would be late today. Even though Mr. Freeman had told her to meet him afterward if she arrived on time, he would see that she wasn't defying him and he wouldn't have to punish her.
Mr. Freeman entered the room and she saw his quick smile. Her heart raced with excitement knowing she had pleased him. "Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Three weeks and counting to the competition and if we're going to win we have to be in top form. Are we ready?"
Everyone shouted as the excitement of competing swept through the room. Lacy, however, was beginning to feel nervous.
"Today," he continued, "We'll go over the choreographed songs. Dancing will be part of the competition as well, and we don't want to look bad."
The crowd laughed.
"We got this," one of the students yelled.
Mr. Freeman looked directly at Lacy. "I guess we'll see."
Lacy usually stood in front but today, she positioned herself behind a tall Soprano, hoping to get the movements down. She hadn't known they were going to incorporate steps into some of the songs during the workshop and no one had showed her the steps.
There were three songs and she struggled through the practice. Mr. Freeman seemed to catch every mistake and called her on it in front of the group. Lacy apologized repeatedly but she knew with a sinking feeling that he was going to punish her anyway. Instead of waiting for someone to show her the moves, she should have asked. Emily had been nice to her last night. She could have easily asked her.
Rehearsal ended all too soon and Lacy found herself trudging toward Mr. Freeman's office. Her body shook, remembering the pain from yesterday's punishment.
He was pushing aside the items on his desk, his belt already unbuckled. She locked the door automatically as words of apology flew to her lips. "I'm sorry, Mr. Freeman. I—I'm going to ask Emily to help—"
"How do you think I look when you show such disdain for me and what we're all trying to accomplish? You missed the workshop. You still don't know the dance steps. Why should I even let you compete?"
The threat frightened Lacy more than anything. This was a regional competition. Thousands would see her perform and there would even be media coverage. If the right people could hear her, she could get a recording contract and leave this school behind.
She stepped out of her skirt and panties, and he examined her tits, then her pussy. "I am pleased," he told her. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"
Her heart swelled with pride, and then dropped. "Yes, sir. I only want to please you, sir."
He didn't respond but slowly pulled his belt free. She bent over the desk and braced herself. She deserved pain after what she almost did today. Mr. Freemen only wanted her to have more respect for him and her fellow choir members. "Thirty."
The pain on her already tender flesh was unbearable but Lacy refused to release the tears spurting into her eyes. Each strike forced her to press into the desk and as she did, she could feel her juices spreading beneath her. Humiliated, she finally broke down and cried. "Please stop," she pleaded.
