Student Life

I woke up on Saturday morning not feeling well-rested at all, and clearly remembering what I'd done. I'd spent what seemed at least half the night partially awake, and trying desperately not to think about it. Trying to think about anything else. My normal go-to would have been one of the videos on my phone, but that sort of thing was certainly not what I needed right now. I needed a hug and someone to wipe away the tears, but couldn't see where those were going to come from.

Humping Connor. Deep-throating him. Him face-fucking me. Licking my cum off his trainer. Having multiple orgasms while he stood -- once again fully dressed -- and laughed at me wiping my own pussy juices all over my face, boobs, body and hair. Crap, oh crap! I'd certainly acted the slutty exhibitionist, even if I was denying being one.

What the hell was wrong with me? I'd had to do a certain amount of that to get the permission needed to give him a blowjob, but I'd gone way beyond that. And if only I'd received that mission earlier in the evening before he'd masturbated, twice! In that case, I could probably have been in and out of his room within ten minutes and left him being grateful for it, rather than playing with me.

I thought of myself as a pretty normal person, but now I was wondering if that was the case -- and what normal was anyway. Was I some kind of freak, or would my friends have reacted in the same way last night? We'd never discussed sex in quite such detail, partly (largely?) because I found it so embarrassing, but I was suddenly anxious to break down those barriers.

Was my reaction to Connor's ministrations to be expected? Had I acted as expected? I currently had no phone to call people, and my blackmailer could monitor all my communications via the laptop. Could I ask Dionne and Leanne? No. No, we didn't have anything like that kind of relationship as yet. And Leanne seemed more repressed than I thought I'd been -- than I still was?

When I jogged the internal mouse on the laptop, I saw that there was a message waiting for me on the screen in answer to my query of last night. Wearing a towel for a short period after a shower, while in the process of drying and sorting out my appearance etc. would be acceptable to him. Ha -- he was human after all. I thanked the screen but, getting no reply, I wrote out my thanks as well, and left him the message.

I took more pills from the packets to help with the continued pain in my throat, but the pain in my confused mind was going to take something stronger. I looked at the closed chest of drawers and desperately wanted to go over, take out underwear and put some on, or at least slip a long t-shirt over myself to leave the room in.

I was still showing myself naked to the guy on the other side of the screen, if he was watching -- which he couldn't be all of the time. Although he could be recording to catch the good bits, couldn't he? However, this would be my first time showing myself off to my flatmates after letting myself get felt up by them and them watching TV.

Letting myself get felt up? Be honest girl, at least with yourself! I hadn't let myself be felt up, I'd pretty much asked them all to do so in front of one another -- there was a world of a difference there. From their point of view, I, the strange exhibitionist, had asked them to do this thing, and they had obliged. That was very different than letting it happen, I'd seemingly been proactive in it.

The only way to get through what was happening was to go with the flow. Try and find some level of acceptance and smile. The minute that they thought there was something wrong, then, being normal people, help would be brought in. At which point my hope of a normal life was over. If it wasn't already.

I brushed my hair, and put on a little light make-up, wanting to present as normal a face on things as I could, before standing looking in the full-length mirror next to the door, holding onto the handle for the moment, before, with a deep breath, unlocking it to leave and step through to the main flat area. I'd looked okay on the outside. Apart from the lack of clothing, nothing seemed wrong with my image.

Breakfast on weekend mornings was usually a staggered affair, although we'd not been together long enough to tell for sure. We would all often stay out to differing times in the evenings and, as is normal with many students, we were fond of staying in bed when there was no deadline to get up for. I wasn't sure if I was first into the kitchen today, but at least it seemed that I was going to be alone for a while today.

I'd not thought this through. I'd not really had a chance to think anything through properly since being forced to strip off and go out to my flatmates yesterday. I needed space to work out what this meant for me. What this meant for my relationships with them, and now on top of that, how to deal with Connor from this point onwards. That, at least, I should have considered while still in my room.

My personality was one that enjoyed logic. I was doing science because I could see how it all hung together -- I'd considered maths, and maybe accounting, for the same reasons. I liked being able to work out the permutations of a situation and plan my next steps accordingly. For my own videos that's what I'd done.

In the past, I'd sometimes got into trouble with my parents for being the kid in the corner of a party, or other social occasion, that was looking on but not participating. I'd be sitting there watching everyone else and working out the dynamics, but not wanting to actually get involved myself. Of course, I was pushed to -- for my own good.

People had often told me in the past that I needed to open up a little more, share my emotions, be more human. And, sadly, I knew what they meant. Not that I had heroes as such, but two old time Star Trek characters had come close for a while. Mr Spock and Data. Both in control of their emotions, and able to operate with sense and logic.

That was me all over. Trying to live my life with, mostly, sense and logic while avoiding much of the messiness of human interaction. Of course, the risky videos I'd made that had now got me into this mess, were not exactly logical. 'How very human' Spock might have said. But then he had his own issues with his human side as well.

What I needed to do right now was some scenario planning. Was there any way to find whoever had my phone? Didn't they come with a GPS these days in case they got lost? I couldn't check via my laptop at the moment as he had complete access to it, but if I could borrow one of the others phones -- or go to the library and use those machines I could check that.

Stupid bloody girl! I'd tried that just yesterday, after getting home and finding I'd lost the sodding thing! I needed to sit and plan this out. Note the things I'd tried and what happened. Plot ideas to work through and how I was going to do it. I was mentally off-balance and needed to take that into account so that I didn't miss something obvious, or go over the same ground -- as with my thinking about the GPS in my phone.

It came to me that both David and Leanne were doing some kind of computing. Could I get either of them to try and look at my phone's location, and then my laptop and the software on it that the blackmailer was using? I thought that some software could be traced backwards to the other party -- although that might have come from a TV programme like CSI or something, and so only apply if you had fancy government tech.

Also, I'd have to explain something of what was going on to them. If they found spyware, which I was pretty certain they would as I'd downloaded something when told to, it would seem weird if, on saying they couldn't track it, I told them to just leave it in place. I needed a private investigator to do this, someone that I could explain about the blackmail to, and let them run with it.

The obvious holes in that idea were firstly, not knowing any. Secondly, not having the money to pay for one, Thirdly, the blackmailer could control the machine and seemingly see through the screen at any time. If he saw people working on it, and realised that they were analysing the software, then I was screwed. It had taken me far too long to get to the point of thinking of investigators, but they were of no use to me anyway.

What I could do was write out a list of possibilities, things that might help me, and keep adding to, and updating that as we went along. Keeping my thoughts in one place might help jog my thinking into something useful. Also, I could write down what I thought my limits were -- or should be. Having those lines in the sand already defined would be helpful when I was asked to cross them.

I was now trying to make a decision as to whether I should flaunt my nudity, own it, by eating out here in public as I normally would have done, while trying to be sociable with whoever turned up. Or should I grab a cuppa and some cereal and leg-it back to my room to hide out for a while? I was supposed to be at my laptop at 10, for him, but that gave me over an hour to kill first.

It wasn't like I'd not been naked in the public area of the flat before. I'd done it a few times, and even filmed myself doing some very rude things, in the little over a week we'd been living together. On those occasions though, I'd been pretty sure that I'd not be disturbed for some time. Today, I was pretty sure I'd be disturbed any minute.

Getting caught with my boobs out would have seemed hideous yesterday morning, yet I was now standing here with them in open view -- as well as my butt and pussy. I'd told the other five that they could look at me when they wished and I'd not mind. I bloody well would, but there was nothing I could do about that.

Getting naked and almost getting caught was something I'd been enjoying doing. It got my motor running and was a lot of fun. I'd not really contemplated going to a nudist beach or anything though, as it wasn't the nudity itself that did it for me -- and anyway, who wanted to see a lot of dirty old men with their bits out!

I'd seen a thing somewhere, no doubt online, where a girl walked naked through a city centre. She was protected by a camera crew and all that, but still everyone there got to see her in her entirely. While that was interesting, it wasn't for me. There was no risk there, no thrill, in just letting it all take place like that.

Today in the flat I'd be naked, but it wouldn't be a turn on for me as there was nothing sexy or risky about it -- this was just scary. I didn't like roller-coasters much, and my stomach was churning away as if I was about to go on one. No normal girl would do this and, at some point, I'd have to think about my flatmate's impression of me, but right now I had other worries.

At any moment they could come out of their rooms and see that I was carrying through on what I'd said yesterday. I'd told three guys (as well as two girls, but they didn't count as much in that way) that I barely knew that they could see my naked body whenever I was home. I mean, how ridiculous was that! It said something for the power of wishful thinking that they'd believed me and gone along with it.

They should either have looked for the hidden cameras for some new game show, some late-night thing where silly girls are willing to bare their all for cash prizes, or called in some responsible adults to deal with the situation. Although, now that we were here, we were supposed to be responsible adults and deal with most of our own problems ourselves!

Connor giving me a slap on the backside and wishing me a good morning broke my thinking. I'd not heard him coming out of his room, so for all I knew the lot of them could all have been staring at my backside for the last ten minutes while I pondered, and stood there holding my bowl of cereal while gazing off into space.

"Connor! That's not appropriate for you to do!" I said with some heat, turning and checking that the other doors were still closed and that we were alone. "As I said to everyone yesterday, you are free to look, but that is all that is going to happen while I try this new lifestyle thing out in the flat."

"And this is appropriate?" He laughed and pointed to my naked body. "And after last night I think I've got the right to give you a little spank every now and then if I want to. Or shall we tell the others what happened, tell them how you were a little slut in heat, shagging my leg, begging to give me a blowjob so that you could cum in front of me -- when I gave you permission? Calling me 'sir' while you begged for me to defile you and called yourself my slut. How about it slug girl? Do we tell them all?"

As I stood, frozen in place by the fear of his threat, he ran his hand down from my ear, slid over my torso, touching my right boob as he did, then continued on to put a finger in my belly-button. This was probed before he moved down to my slit and eventually came to rest with fingers inside my pussy. His back was to the bedroom doors, so he was shielding us from anyone that might come out of the rooms, but he held his position inside me while he spoke again, leaning right in to do so.

"I'll decide what is appropriate or not. I'll not do this in front of the others -- for now at least -- but, when they can't see us, I'll touch what I want. When I want. And the best thing, slut, is that you want me to. You said that this wasn't about sex, but it very clearly is. So, my little slug, do you want me to call out and get the others in here -- or is this okay with you?"

And how can I complain about what he is doing, what he is touching, with that threat hanging over me? He cannot prove anything about last night (or so I believe, and hope), but his words would at least end this situation if nothing more. I have to keep the status quo until my blackmailer wants it changed. I'd have to talk to him about this when he contacted me later this morning, but, for the moment at least, the consequences of what I did and said last night are mine to deal with.

I cannot challenge Connor right now. I just bow my head and try to carry on making my breakfast. While he has fingers in my pussy, and wraps the other arm around me to caress my boobs, I try and carry on at the counter. It's utterly humiliating, and what is worse my body is reacting to it. I know it, and he does as well. He laughs, puts his fingers in my mouth to have me clean them, which I do, and then he takes my food from me and sits with it at the table.

"Make me a coffee." He's sitting eating my cereal after touching me up, and he wants me to make him coffee now? What the hell does he think this is? I'm not his damn girlfriend, nor a servant of some sort. I'm a flatmate. A flatmate who is blushing after what he's done and is rather bewildered. I ask him how he wants it as I boil the kettle.

"Hot, white, sweet, and goes down easy -- a lot like you Amy." Which, while obnoxious, was actually a decent comeback. Has he been working that one out just waiting for the chance to say it? "What do you think? Would you like to go down on me now, knowing they could come out and watch? Does that get your kink going little slug girl -- are you going to start leaking all over the place again?"

I kept quiet and made him his coffee as I tried desperately to work out what to do now. He knows he has a hold over me as long as I want to remain naked, which I do or the videos will all get sent out. If the others got pulled into a discussion about him smacking my naked butt, or sticking his fingers inside me, then this whole experiment will get called off. No question of that. Therefore, I cannot complain about his actions.

Until I am allowed to wear clothes in the flat again, I cannot make a fuss over the way he might treat me. My only hope is that he doesn't realise the power that he has over me, or try to use it more than trying to bring out my inner slut -- or slug. I know that he could make me do almost anything as long as that didn't cause the group as a whole to revoke the permission for me to be nude in here.

Almost anything? Absolutely anything more like. After placing his mug on the table, I put more food together, and then took my breakfast back to my room rather than joining him at the table, as I would probably have done yesterday. If he wanted to lean over and touch me up -- threatening to tell the others what was going on if I said no, then I'd have had to let him. Hell, he could screw me across the table and I'd still have to keep quiet! Avoidance was now to be the name of the game.

And in the middle of all of that, he hadn't missed that I'd called him 'sir.' last night. Bugger! I'd sincerely hoped that he had either missed it in the first place, in the excitement of the moment, or had forgotten it what with everything else happening. Damn and blast the man! Damn and blast the blackmailer for starting me down this road!

This couldn't last, so I had to do something about it right now. I put my food down and went back through, sitting at the table across from him. I could have stood there, but that would have emphasised my nakedness more than being seated did. I wanted to attempt to reason with him, and not letting him gawp at my once private parts would be a good start.

"No," I tell him. "This whole thing is my scenario, and so my rules. Whether I'm a slut or not is not your business. You could get this called off; I accept that. But have you thought that through? David and Scott are hardly going to thank you for spoiling this for them if I have to go back to wearing clothes. Dionne and Leanne may not be happy either. How long before you are hounded out of the flat?"

Given that we'd only been there for a little over a week, and that I didn't think any of us had strong relationships built with any of the others as yet, this wasn't my strongest line of attack, but it was just one thread of a number I wanted to play. I'd watch him as I spoke and see what seemed to resonate and home in on that area.

"Don't forget that you'd also never get to see me naked again. And I mean never. Last night might never be repeated -- but then again it might," (I knew that I was blushing heavily as I said this), "but not if you talk to the others. If you want me in your room again -- and who knows, maybe in your bed, then it is in your best interest to play this my way. To keep quiet, and leave me alone to work out my things in peace"

That did hit home and I saw it. The brashness seemed to drop a little from his face and he looked more thoughtful. I gave him a few more seconds to chew over the thought of what this would mean if I ended this weird naked phase, and what he might be missing out on if that did happen.

"Connor, there can be no more touching me when I think this is inappropriate. In public you can, just like the others, look but not touch. And if I want more, I'll come and talk to you about it. Maybe make a request of you as I did last night. Think about all of this, and then if you don't like it, can't accept it, then hell, talk to the others and see what happens."

"Okay slut." He replied without seeming to give it over much thought. "If that's how you want to play things at the moment, then so be it. Remember though, that you came to me last night. You wanted this to start, and you felt damn good at the time. Your head might be saying no in the morning, when you are full of remorse, but your slut body knows what it needs. It needs 'sir' to take control of you again. You will be back, and next time maybe there will be a price to pay for denying me my pleasures right now."

On the whole, I felt pretty good as I went back to my room to eat my breakfast. What I'd said had all sounded good to me, and I hoped that he would accept that. A threat to his continuing to live here happily. To seeing me naked, and a not quite promise that more blowjobs (and maybe much more), could happen in the future if he played along.