Girl For The Goths
Professor Jamison's Lecture Ends Early
Professor Jamison finished his lecture ahead of schedule, just as he always did. It was no secret that he aimed to complete an allotted number of pages from the Journalism text and stop there. Students speculated this was his way of maintaining discipline in both his teaching and their learning.
But Hannah knew better. She believed that the professor, who was nearing retirement, was merely putting in the minimum effort to complete his remaining years at the institution. Jacob held high regard for Jamison's academic qualifications and the advice he had given her about her writing dilemmas. However, she sought guidance from someone who could enlighten her about her chosen field. She desired a mentor with whom she could learn the ropes rather than a skilled technician.
As the students filed out of the medium-sized classroom, Hannah closed her notebook and picked up her pen. She felt nervous, anticipatory, and slightly flushed. Since it was Thursday, this was the day she spent online. As she got up from her seat, she was aware of her heart pounding in her chest.
"Did you manage to get the name of the site Jamison mentioned? The one with summer internships?" Sharon, a second-year Sociology student, asked Hannah from behind.
Hannah had never been a fan of Sharon, who had an air of superiority about her. Hannah thought of Sharon as the puppeteer who managed the group of 5 girls nicknamed 'Goths.' They had always been on the margins in high school and were now attempting to make something of their lives away from their home towns.
"No, Sharon, I didn't write that down. I apologize, I'll try to pay attention more next time," Hannah replied while walking towards the door.
Sharon's guise of being friendly amused Hannah. She could see through the façade - Sharon was a self-proclaimed leader of the Goths and seemed to consider them her personal assistants. Hannah couldn't stand Sharon's snootiness but couldn't help admiring her physical beauty. These girls were known for their darkness - they dressed all in black with transparent and leather clothing. Their dark eye makeup, raven-black hair, and deep black lipstick were the hallmarks of their look.
Hannah turned her back on the group and left the room, walking past them without looking in their direction. She reached her dorm room, securing the door with a button on the knob that locked it and twisted the deadbolt. Her roommate had opted to spend the night with her boyfriend, freeing Hannah to enjoy her personal space.
It took only a few minutes to discard her clothes and unveil the box tucked beneath her bed. It contained several sex toys: vibrators, a dildo, small butt plugs, a long wooden ruler, tubes of lube and icy/hot cream, and twelve wooden clothespins. When she had started her online explorations, Hannah had possessed nothing more than a silver bullet vibrator, which she'd bought hurriedly and left the store as quickly as possible. This toy had served her well for some time, but as she began delving deeper into her kinks, she knew she needed a more expansive collection.
She spread her toys on her desk and sat down in the plush leather chair, which she'd recently purchased to replace the uncomfortable wooden ones. Her bottom touched the chair, then her back, and she exhaled audibly while relishing the comfort it provided.
In her naked state, Hannah started to arrange her toys, knowing what she had planned for tonight. She'd take pleasure in the wooden ruler, placing it between her legs and pushing down to her heart's content. She also had a few wooden clothespins for differently placed pinches, arousing her sexually. It was a ritual she enjoyed regularly.
Feeling excited, Hannah anticipated an evening of intrigue and pleasure. The leather chair cushioned her spine as she pleasured herself, taking her time to reach the ultimate ecstasy her body craved. As she indulged in her desires, she appreciated the comfort and solace of her quiet, personal space.
Hannah became increasingly excited as she opened Discord. He was online! She had feared that she'd have to wait until four o'clock, their typical arrangement - but there he was. Taking a few deep breaths, she initiated a call to him. Nearly oblivious to the rocking motion of her knees or her progressive movement towards the screen, she anticipating his face appearing on the screen.
During the summer, she'd encountered him while on vacation at the beach. Under the influence of alcohol, they'd danced and shared provocative thoughts. The conversations were escalating and eventually, he took her back to his bedroom, where she was restrained on the bed, whipped with a belt until her ass felt as if it was on fire, then fucked by him and several of his friends for two days. They left her drunk and tied up a good part of the time, fearing that she might change her mind and turn them in to the police. Though they were unaware of her intentions at that time, she'd never wanted less than experiencing the pain and humiliation.
Tormenting herself sexually for at least two years, Hannah had traced her obsession back to finding an erotic fiction website and spending numerous hours reading. As much as there were diverse genres, she repeatedly returned to the darker, more brutal stories.
The sexual escapades during the summer were undeniably enjoyable, but they lacked artistic creativity, a lack of understanding of her psychological needs, and an absence of insight that they were more than just engaging in an act they'd seen on a porn site.
Ever since then, she'd contacted numerous online 'doms,' yet the sessions had hardly gone beyond a simple spanking and waiting for her to offer a blowjob. She was continually drawn to the sessions with him, as they were, in a sense, a connection to that nostalgic incident in the summer. Hannah would close her eyes, attempting to remember the details on the bed, her body covered in multiple loads, and her nipples pressing against the tightly starched sheets.
"It's not four o'clock," was the first thing he mentioned.
"No, we were released early from class."
"Well, I said four o'clock. And, to paraphrase the famous quote, what do you think real sadists do when a masochist asks for pain? They refuse."
The delighted smile on his face was visible when he picked up a beer, took a long swig, and spoke again.
"See you tomorrow. Four, clear it up for you?"
Breaking the connection, she saw his hand reaching for the camera. She complained and thrashed, yet he ended the call.
"Asshole! Idiot!" she yelled, throwing a ruler across the room. Collapsing her head over her hands, she felt the onset of tears. Was it anger? Or something more intricate?
A whole world existed beyond her reality, she was aware. A subculture of individuals who operated solely to achieve the optimal balancing act of inflicting disgrace, agony, and abuse on those who sought it. Naked bodies serving the desires of their dominant counterparts were not an uncommon sight. She was aware of kink groups near her area and Discord servers where like-minded individuals connected, but she also knew of telephone sex lines that could connect her to people who would put her through agonizing scenarios, eventually bringing her to the mind-blowing climaxes she yearned for. While they charged by the minute, funds were within her grasp. At least for a while.
Closing the laptop cover, she grabbed her favorite personal massager and pins and walked to the bed. Covering her eyes, she funnily dragged her fingernails across her abdomen. Upon reaching her breasts, she harshly scratched their undersides. Below that, she moved her nails down to her thighs and pressed hard before ascending once more. Fingers found her nipples and flicked them lightly, followed by a harder prod. However, the excruciating sensation made her cry out, eventually leading her to throw the clothespin away.
She needed multiple hands; a surrogate issuing commands for her to execute. Doing it alone was insufficient; she would be unable to satisfy herself. There was no point in continuing; achieving climax was a lost cause.
Full of anger, she gathered her playthings, placed them inside their container, and pushed the box beneath the bed.
She checked the time. It was only 3:05 pm. She had accomplished all this within five minutes. Dinner wasn't scheduled until at least 6:00 pm, but if she ate in the dining hall. With this pent-up energy, she'd go insane if she didn't find ways to relieve this stress. She decided to go to the university's fitness center and circle the swimming pool several times.
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- The Femme Fatale's Curse Ch. 02
- Peppermint Ch. 01: Deborah in Pain
- Peppermint Ch. 01: Deborah in Pain
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