Friday night on a university campus… It’s like Times Square. Always busy, always bustling, and always something new to explore. I had crossed the quad to go visit Geena at her apartment, taking note of all of the posters and fliers plastered around. There were more than a couple events I was interested in, but the one that caught my eye was the Zeta Kappa Theta mixer. The Zeta Kappa Theta sorority had a reputation as one of the most active, prestigious, and fun chapters of Greek life, and I hadn’t yet gotten a chance to check them out, so I was definitely curious. And knowing Geena’s sense of adventure, she would be, too! It seemed like the perfect way to kick off our weekend.
But when I got to her apartment I discovered she had other plans.
“Hey, Geena, Oh, hey, Oz,” I said as I let myself into her apartment. Oz was bent over her couch, stuffing books and loose papers into a backpack haphazardly. Geena was hovering by her bookshelf, surveying it thoughtfully. Geena’s bookshelves are nothing short of a library and I’ve always worried that they’ll collapse someday under their own weight.
“Hey, Mike!” exclaimed Geena brightly. “We were just about to go down to the library. Want to come?”
“…the library?” I repeated, scrunching my nose. “What’s going on at the library?”
“Study sesh,” said Oz, slinging one strap of his backpack over his shoulder. It wasn’t zipped up completely and the lip flapped open, revealing the disorganization inside. “I’ve got a major midterm coming up. Geena thinks there’s hope for me. History isn’t really my thing but you know how Geena’s brain is like a sponge. If anyone can get me through it, she can!”
“…you guys are going to study on a Friday night?” I asked.
“Just for a couple of hours,” said Geena. “History is one of my favorite subjects. You have no idea how much history there is, even in this town! Once you get into it, it’s really fascinating.”
“If you say so,” grumbled Oz.
Geena crossed the room, put her hands on his shoulders, spun him around, and zipped up his backpack for him.
“I was thinking we could go to a party,” I ventured. “I mean, you’ve got all weekend to study, and there’s a mixer over at Zeta Kappa right now.”
“That sounds awesome!” exclaimed Oz, letting his backpack slide to the floor with a thunk.
Geena stooped down, picked it up, and held it out to him. “No, no, no. You’ve put this off long enough, Oz. It’s time to buckle down. We can go later, maybe, if you’re making progress.”
Oz gave a weary sigh and accepted his backpack back from her. “Alright, you’re the boss. …you’re sure we can’t just poke our heads in?”
Geena shook her head.
“I really want to go. I don’t have anything to study for,” I said.
Geena walked over to me and slipped her arms around my neck, resting her forearms on my shoulders. “I promised Oz I’d help him, Mike. We can go to another party this weekend, okay?”
“But Zeta Kappa–”
“Mike, trust me, there will be plenty of parties.” She kissed me on the forehead. “Do you want to come with us to the library? You might learn something neat!”
“No, thanks,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “Maybe when you two are done we can hang out.”
My first shot to get to party with Zeta Kappa Theta, and Oz had a tutoring appointment with my girlfriend! Talk about bad luck.
I walked with Geena and Oz down the steps of Geena’s apartment building and onto the street. Geena pointed to the looming Queen Building, the tallest structure in the city, a 20-story stone building that was one of the most historical landmarks of Old Town.
“See the Queen Building? It was built in 1924 and it’s in the Art Nouveau style,” Geena informed us.
“Wow, history is so cool,” said Oz sarcastically.
“It is!” insisted Geena huffily.
I kept my mouth shut; I was still disappointed about missing the party. As we walked onto campus, reminders seemed to be everywhere. Had the fliers multiplied in the short time I’d been at Geena’s apartment? It sure seemed like it.
We stopped halfway across the quad; my dorm was straight ahead and the library was to the left.
“You sure you don’t want to come with us, Mike?” asked Geena, her eyes soft. “After we’re done, if there’s still time, we can go to the party.”
“Naw. I appreciate the invitation but I think I’ll just… hang out,” I said, with a shrug.
Geena tilted my chin up with her fingers for a kiss. “Mike, I promise I’ll make sure you have a good weekend. But I promised to help Oz.”
“I know, I know. It’s nice of you. I’ll catch up with you later,” I said, closing my eyes to return her apologetic kiss. I watched her and Oz turn their backs to me and trudge toward the library.
I turned to head back to my dorm, just as three guys blew past me, a spring in their step. They were laughing and I caught snippets of their conversation:
“–like ten kegs–”
“–craziest night–”
“–one-in-a-lifetime!” The last voice was familiar; I looked over sharply and saw a shock of red hair bouncing away.
“Cory!” I called.
The redhead turned, but kept walking backwards. He waved to me. “Oh, hi, Mike! Can’t stay and chat… I’ve got plans! Wanna come?”
Were they going to the party? They seemed to be heading straight toward Greek Row. I felt envy bubble up inside me. I wanted to go to that party so, so bad. I understood Geena would never break a promise, and that Oz needed to study, but it felt so unfair to me. I didn’t have anyone to tutor, or anything to study! So why should I miss out?
And suddenly, a light bulb moment.
Who said I had to go with Geena?
The party was open to any students who wanted to come. There was nothing stopping me from checking it out on my own! Geena hadn’t insisted I wait up for her, not technically. She would understand. She always did. We did nearly everything together but it’s not like we were required to. The echoes of that other guy’s words rang in my head: once-in-a-lifetime.
I couldn’t miss out!
I turned sharply and jogged away from the library, away from my dorm… straight toward the Zeta Kappa Theta house.
Cory and the other two freshman were ahead of me but I felt confident I could catch up.
I heard the party before I saw it. Music was pumping out of the open windows like a heartbeat. The house itself was lit up like a Christmas tree, and even though it was still daylight, it was in full swing. At least a hundred students, maybe more, were lounging on the lawn, the steps, walking in and out of the grand entrance with drinks in their hands, laughing, dancing, having the time of their lives.
I felt a smile light onto my face and I quickened my pace. Going to a party alone is never as fun as going with people you know, but I was glad to be there. Cory had disappeared but he hadn’t been too far ahead of me; I could probably find him quickly, especially with his distinctive mop of red hair. And Geena had said she could come after she was done with Oz, so it’s not like I’d be alone all night!
I climbed the steps to the entrance and shouldered my way in to find a main room that felt like a club; people were smushed together, the beautiful Zeta Kappa girls sluicing through the crowd with the self-assurance of a pride of lionesses. I scanned the crowd, hoping to find Cory or one of the other guys from my dorm floor. Everyone had a cup in their hands, but even with all the jumping and dancing to the music, no one was spilling a drop. Not on the Zeta Kappas’ watch!
I froze for a moment, taking in all of the energy, and suddenly I heard a voice exclaim, “Oh my goodness, girls, look! A bear!”
A gaggle of girls turned and suddenly I was surrounded. They were talking about me! I grinned nervously as four women, probably seniors, suddenly descended on me, giggling and cooing, brushing my hair and pinching my cheeks.
“You must be a freshman!”
“Fresh meat!”
“Is this your first party, sweetie?”
“Haha– yeah– it is– I have a girlfriend,” I added hastily, as one of them put her hand on my chest. I gently pushed it away, feeling flattered and a little overwhelmed. “I’m just here to, uh, you know, hang out–”
They erupted with laughter as if I’d said something clever. “Let me get you a drink, baby. You’re going to have fun, I promise!” One of them turned her back to me and when she turned back, she had a red plastic cup in her hand. She handed it to me. I took a small sip; whatever it was, it was fruity and sweet, but it burned going down.
They laughed again at my expression.
“Don’t be shy! Go on, drink!”
I took another, bigger swallow. “Thank you,” I said. My tongue tingled.
“What’s your name, big guy?”
“Mike,” I said.
“Let me top you off, Mike.”
“I don’t normally drink very mu– oh, thanks,” I said, as one of them produced a flask and dumped some honey-colored liquid into my cup. It was already practically full, and now the liquid was brimming, threatening to overflow. I brought the cup to my lips and sipped, worried someone might knock into me and cause me to spill it.
“So you’ve heard about the Zeta Kappas, huh?” asked one of the girls, flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder.
“Some. Yeah. One of the– one of the oldest organizations on campus,” I said.
“That’s right. We’ve got a… long, full history.” The way she carefully picked out those words made me wonder what she meant, but I was having trouble concentrating on any thought. They seemed to fly away as soon as they formed, like wisps of smoke.
“My girlfriend loves history,” I said. My tongue felt even weirder; suddenly I was ultra-aware of it in my mouth, and how it moved around my words, tangling them, slurring them. I took another drink from my cup, trying to get rid of the tingling.
“I bet she loves you, you cutie-pie. You’re exactly the kind of boy we like to see around here,” said the one who had dumped her flask into my cup. She reached over and grabbed my shirt, giving me a pull forward; I stumbled a little, surprised at how light my body felt.
The beat of the bass carried up the floor and through my feet, making my body pulse. I blinked rapidly; I felt like I’d only been here a very short time but suddenly I felt immensely tired.
“I– I think I need to go outside for some air!” I called.
The group of Zeta Kappas giggled at me. Another hand grabbed another bunch of my clothes. “Don’t be silly, Matt, you just got here!”
“It’s Mike.”
“Whatever. Come on, Mike, let us give you the grand tour. We can show you why Zeta Kappa Theta is famous.”
“More like infamous,” cackled one of them.
“I really think I need to go outside,” I slurred, my voice sounding all wrong, the words oozing thickly out. I wriggled, trying to move back, but we’d gotten away from the door and now we were in the middle of a crowd, the party all around us. It was disorientingly loud and I wasn’t even sure where the entrance was anymore. My mind felt fuzzy; I could feel hands tugging me forward and the overlapping chatter of the girls as they spoke to, no, at me, urging me to come with them, yanking me deeper and deeper into their den.
Panic was starting to set in. I’d only had one, maybe one and a half drinks, but I felt completely out of control. I’m no light-weight and I didn’t understand how things had gotten so strange in such a short amount of time. The laughter of the sorority sisters no longer felt welcoming; it had taken on a sinister tone, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest with subdued panic as I tried to get my thoughts together so I could escape.
Geena had said we could go to the party after she was done with Oz. Why hadn’t I listened?! Why had I thought I could go by myself… me, an inexperienced freshman, without any of Geena’s natural authority and command, without the slightest idea about how to navigate this sort of situation?
I don’t know what happened to my cup, or to the front door, for that matter. I didn’t know anything. The only thing I remember clearly were my last thoughts before everything faded to black:
Geena, I wish you were here…
My mouth is dry. Why is it so dry?
I woke to silence. I tried to reach for my water bottle on the bedside table but… I couldn’t? I tried to reach again, but my arms wouldn’t work. In fact, they were pretty sore.
I cracked my eyes open, but saw nothing but darkness, and as I came roaring to full consciousness, I realized that something was terribly wrong.
For one, my mouth was forced open, something large inside. Second, I was restrained. This normally wouldn’t be all too strange, considering some of the shenanigans that Geena gets me involved in, but no matter how much I wracked my brain, I couldn’t remember my last waking memory being anything that would end up with me bound and gagged. I’d been in a crowded living room, surrounded by other partygoers. Where was I… and how had I ended up here?
Had I gotten drunk at the party and stumbled back to Geena’s? Was this the continuation of some sort of game we were playing that I couldn’t remember?
That didn’t seem likely. I was still fully clothed, sweat soaking into my t-shirt from fear. If this had been some game Geena and I had been playing, I was sure she would have made me comfortable, and being tied to a rough, straight-backed chair, fully clothed, was not her style.
I struggled against my bindings, too freaked out to worry about punishments or upsetting Geena. My only sense that was working was my hearing, and what I slowly heard filter into my brain made me even more frantic.
There were the sounds of leather on flesh, and a series of yelps following it that sounded suspiciously like Geena. I have heard so many of Geena’s pleasure sounds at this point that I should be able to recognize them, but this was something else. She just sounded in pain.
Adrenaline flooded my system, but no matter how hard I pulled, I couldn’t break loose. And these weren’t Geena’s soft velvet ties, either. The ropes were abrading my wrists roughly when I struggled, adding a whole new level of misery to the situation. I couldn’t even fight my way out without being in pain.
This wasn’t Geena’s bed, either. No, I was strapped to a chair, straight-backed and severe, a very uncomfortable piece of furniture that Geena would never have in her apartment. Wherever I was, it wasn’t anywhere I knew!
I screamed as best as I could past the gag, and the slapping sounds paused.
“Jazmin… please…” I hear Geena gasp softly, her tone tender. She was almost pleading, and it was a tone I was not familiar with. Geena doesn’t beg.
“Fine,” another voice says. The woman sounded feminine, sultry, and there was a touch of an accent in her tone, an exotic emphasis on the vowels.
The sharp sounds of heels on concrete approached me, and with a swift motion that jerked my head to the side, someone removed my blindfold. I blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the overhead strings of soft, diffused lightbulbs, before I looked around.
Except, I couldn’t. The tallest woman I had ever seen in my whole life was standing in front of me, dominating my entire field of vision.
If I wasn’t sick with fear, then I probably would have been in awe of her. She was flawless, her skin even ebony from her heeled feet to her chiseled cheekbones, and it seemed to glow even in the lowlighting of the room we were in. She wore a long-sleeved vinyl black bodysuit that ended abruptly into a panty-like bottom, leaving her strong legs bare.
She leaned over me. Her hair, which was done in dozens and dozens of small scarlet braids, was falling around her face as she looked at me at eye level. She gave me a feral smile, white teeth flashing, before she left without a word, heading back in the direction that she came, giving me a chance to look the area over.
My first guess was a basement because I could see no windows. The floor was concrete, and the atmosphere had that distinct thickness that you get from being underground, when soil is pressing in on the walls. The walls themselves were all covered in red velvet curtains, which further muffled the sounds of the place and added to the sense that it was a cozy, enclosed location. Dotted about the place were a few standing candelabras with red candles lit, wax dripping down to the floor like drops of blood. But aside from the curtains and the candles, everything else… everything else belonged in a torture chamber.
I could identify some of the furniture: a rack, a St. Andrew’s cross, a spanking bench. But there were other pieces I couldn’t have named in a million years. All of it was in black: black wood, leather, metal. The only piece of furniture that wasn’t black was a freestanding silver rack that looked like it was meant to hold towels, but instead was draped with chains, whips, leashes, paddles, floggers, crops, and every imaginable instrument a person could need for inflicting pain onto another.
At this point, I was comfortable with BDSM, but this went far and beyond what Geena and I had partaken in. This place held every sort of flog, clamp, gag, and more, instruments beyond even my wildest imagination, things I’d never seen before and had no idea what to make of.
But worst of all… was Geena.
I felt like screaming again when I finally spotted her across the room, nude, bound face-down to a leather table with her ass high in the air and her cheek pressed on the table. The straps restraining her were thick belts, and Geena was totally immobile. The tall woman approached her, and it was then I noticed the flog in her hand. It was leather, with at least 10 strands, and the woman tapped it in her hand a few times while she considered Geena’s raised butt.
It already looked red, but then the woman pulled her arm back and whipped Geena so hard on her bare ass that it echoed a loud slap! through the room. Geena yelped, squeezing her eyes shut, and it felt like my heart was breaking.
Was this my fault? Had I somehow gotten us into this mess?
I fought. Harder than I should have, as the woman beat Geena, I fought my restraints even as they bit into my wrists and ankles, so hard that the wooden chair I was in threatened to topple me to the floor. It was only when the legs of the chair made a loud, sharp scrape against the concrete that the woman stopped hitting Geena, pausing again.
“He’s going to hurt himself,” she said to Geena, in a conversational tone that had my head spinning after the beatings. Like they were old friends.
“Let me out and I’ll talk to him,” Geena said, also sounding calmer than she had any right to be.
To my shock, the taller woman complied, undoing the large buckles and letting Geena up. She swung her legs over the table and stretched her arms high in the air before making her way over to me.
I begged her with my eyes, feeling confused and ill, but she looped her arms around my neck and rested her forehead on mine.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “That is Jazmin, and she’s my friend.”
“…fend?” I garbled in confusion through the gag.
I turn my head away from her, hurt and shocked. This was another game!? I had feared for her life!
Geena put her hand on my chin and turned my head, forcing me to look at her. “Mike. You went to that party on your own, and do you know what almost happened?”
I shook my head, which made the room spin a little.
Geena frowned. “Mike, the Zeta Kappas are an extremely powerful group on this campus. They don’t have very much respect for men, let alone freshmen, let alone freshmen who come to their parties alone. Didn’t I tell you we could go after I was done with Oz? I thought you had more sense than that. I can’t protect you if you make bad decisions, Mike. You’re lucky that Harry saw you, and came to get me. …although I can’t say I’m pleased that you ended up interrupting my tutoring session with Oz.”
I tried to process her words. Harry had gotten Geena to come and fetch me?
She’d… rescued me?
That made sense, but it didn’t explain where I was or who the lady who had been slapping Geena’s ass was. I had so many questions, all of them stuffed into my mouth thanks to the gag.
“I’m disappointed, Mike. Glad you’re safe, but… disappointed.”
I lowered my eyes, feeling embarrassed. Deep down, maybe, I had known it was dumb to go without Geena. But I’d never expected she would need to leave Oz and come rescue me! Or that I would need rescued in the first place. I felt like a fool.
“I promised you a fun weekend, and since you couldn’t seem to wait, I decided to bring you here. It’s safer than anywhere else on campus, and after you put yourself in danger like that… well, I think maybe you need to learn about the history of this town more than Oz does. For your own safety.”
I nodded a little, feeling chastised.
Geena nuzzled my hair comfortingly, then turned and stalked back to Jazmin, looking up at the woman expectantly, stars in her eyes. Geena looked enamored with the woman, and frankly, it pissed me off. Geena’s beautiful curls flowed down her back, and I could see that her naked body was pebbled in goosebumps from the cold of the concrete floor. She looked submissive and worshipful before Jazmin. I had never thought of Geena as small before, but in front of Jazmin, she looked almost delicate. A kitten beside a cat, one small and plump and wide-eyed, the other regal and lithe and deadly.
“Your boy toy seems dissatisfied with the events, my darling. Do you want to call it quits?” Jazmin purred, running the flog down Geena’s cheek, making her shiver.
“No,” Geena breathed. “Let’s continue. Mike had to learn, eventually, for his own good. Sooner is better than later, after what almost happened tonight.”
Jazmin smiled. “A very wise decision. But tonight is not all about Mike. Your feelings also matter. So, do you want to continue?”
“Yes,” breathed Geena.
Jazmin looked past Geena to me and smiled again. There was a gap between her two front teeth, I noticed. “What can I do? I gave her a way out but she just can’t resist my control. Can you, Geena? …Geena and I have known each other a long time. And I know what things she desires. What things she can’t resist.”
Geena smiled, almost sheepishly. “Jazmin isn’t just my friend, Mike. She’s my mentor. She’s taught me so much… and is still teaching me. Just as I teach you.”
This was starting to make sense. I stared at Jazmin with newfound appreciation; it was like meeting my boss’s boss. An honor, but a scary one. Jazmin and Geena, however, were no longer looking at me, but at each other.
“Now, little girl,” said Jazmin. I could not imagine anyone else in the entire world calling Geena little girl, but when Jazmin said it, it seemed right. “Start from the bottom.”
Geena laid herself supplicant on the cold floor before Jazmin, starting at her ankles and working upwards, kissing every inch of her reverently. Her lips covered the vinyl bodysuit that Jazmin was wearing, polishing its already-shiny surface until Jazmin looked like she was made of pure black light. It took forever, with Geena making sure no part of Jazmin went uncovered. Jazmin stood unmoving, looking for all the world like she deserved every bit of praise Geena heaped on her.
When Geena reached Jazmin’s vinyl-clad shoulders, Jazmin put a finger under Geena’s chin and turned her face up to hers. Geena watched her, doe-eyed.
“Face down on the table, darling. I won’t have to tie you… unless you fight.” Jazmin stroked Geena’s cheek as she spoke, and Geena nodded, climbing back onto the table and folding her arms under her head.
From where I was sitting, I could see that Geena’s ass was still red. Jazmin approached her with something gleaming metallic in her hand, and Geena scrunched her eyes shut and grimaced when Jazmin laid her hands on her abused ass, spreading her cheeks. The object in her hand was a steel buttplug, and Geena accepted it without a sound, even though it was only lubed by Jazmin’s spit after she briefly popped it in her mouth.
“Now,” Jazmin said, towering over Geena’s waiting form. “Where were we?”
To her credit, Geena didn’t make a peep when Jazmin resumed the lashing. The flog was loud on her flesh, but Jazmin had an easier touch than I thought, and Geena ground her hips into the leather table as she took her punishment, whimpering each time one of the strands landed on the plug shining between her plump cheeks. Her body moved hypnotically under Jazmin’s strokes, her flesh rippling like fields of wheat waving in the wind under a broad, blue sky. I had never imagined Geena being flogged and witnessing it now, I was in awe of the landscape of her body, the way her body carried each impact with it like a treasure. Geena’s curvy, full body drank every slap, pulling it into herself and translating it into strength and pleasure. It was absolutely erotic to watch and even though I still felt sullen (I couldn’t believe how stupid I had been to go to that party), I couldn’t help but feel mesmerized as Geena and Jazmin played together.
Every third or fourth strike Jazmin would aim lower, grazing Geena’s pussy with the flog, eliciting an even higher cry. I felt that they had a tried-and-true, tested routine, one both of them was familiar with.
To be witness to it was mind-boggling, the sounds and visuals utterly captivating. Jazmin was like something out of a fantasy; incredibly tall and beautiful, and I was fascinated watching Geena experience all the punishments that she always doled out on me. I wondered if I made the same faces, or if my gasps sounded similar.
Finally, when Geena’s ass was nearly glowing, Jazmin hung the flog back on the rack behind her. I watched as she stripped out of the vinyl bodysuit, and her naked body was even more brilliant than I had imagined. I tried as hard as I could to not react, but against the will of my saner mind, my cock jumped at seeing her fully revealed, pressing against the crotch of my jeans.
Jazmine, of course, paid me no mind, and neither did Geena. The taller woman plucked something off the wall that looked familiar yet foreign: a strap-on, but with a double-sided dildo, one end facing out and the other in. The side pointing outward looked just like Geena’s strap-ons, but the inner side sat lower and curved upward. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to, as Jazmine stepped into the harness and shimmied it up her legs, eventually slipping her side of the dildo deep inside her. It was a bright purple, and watching it slip between her dark nether lips was intoxicating.
I realized Geena hadn’t even bothered to move, just like any good sub would, and I knew what was going to happen to her before she did. Jazmine took her time, gently stroking Geena’s cherry-colored asscheeks before grabbing her around the waist and urging her backward until Geena’s toes were on the floor, her front still bent over the surface of the table, her breasts pressed down on top of it, a natural cushion for Geena’s readied body.
“Are you going to hold still and let me fuck you now, little girl?” Jazmine demanded, reaching down and pressing on the flared head of Geena’s buttplug and making her moan.
“Yes, Mistress Jazmin,” Geena answered, voice quavering.
“We’ll see,” Jazmin commented, leaning over Geena’s form and kissing down her spine, her heavy breasts and dark nipples brushing against Geena as she moved down.
I tried to look away again, I really did, because the whole scene felt so personal and intimate. But the wet sound of Jazmin penetrating Geena was almost irresistible. And if they hadn’t wanted me to see this then surely they wouldn’t have tied me up in the room with them!
I looked back to them, and Jazmin’s hips were flush against Geena, seated fully inside her. It must have felt almost like double penetration, the plug and the cock, and Geena’s face was rapturous when Jazmin pulled out slowly and slammed back home.
“You’re such a little slut for me, aren’t you, Geena?” Jazmin asked, fucking her at a punishing pace. Geena gripped the table, her knuckles white, as she held on for dear life.
“I am, Mistress. I’m your little slut,” Geena answered excitedly.
It was different, watching Jazmin fuck her, because I could see the pleasure written on her face, too. The double-sided dildo was driving them both towards orgasm, but Jazmin never let up her pace. She’s a true professional, I thought with wonder.
“You like to watch me fuck her?” Jazmin tossed over her shoulder at me with a smirk. I couldn’t even reply with the gag in my mouth, so I settled for narrowing my eyes at her, and she laughed breathlessly. “Don’t worry,” she continued, “I’m sure you do a passable job.”
A passable job!
I pouted, feeling humiliated that Geena had brought me here to meet her mentor on a night when I had messed up so badly and disappointed her. But I guess that was the point.
Aside from my frustration at myself and my embarrassment, I was also feeling terribly aroused, making for a confusing hodge-podge of emotions that my groggy brain was having trouble sorting. Geena and Jazmin hadn’t even bothered undressing me (not that I deserved it), and my cock was chafing against the inside of my jeans, begging to be let out.
Even when I closed my eyes, I could still hear them; their pants and moans, and the wet slapping sound of Jazmin fucking Geena’s pussy relentlessly. Every few strokes she would reach down and rotate the buttplug, causing Geena to keen louder.
“Can I please come, Mistress?” she asked desperately.
“Only after I do,” Jazmin instructed. She moved closer still to Geena, propping one knee on the table and fucking her even harder, only Geena’s grip keeping her from sliding right off. Jazmin lost her flawless rhythm, now thrusting with the single-minded goal of reaching her own peak. She slipped a hand between her own folds, holding onto Geena with the other, and rubbed her clit vigorously between strokes.
Jazmin slammed in hard one last time, tossing her head back as she came, barely making a sound as her hips twitched and ground against Geena. I could see the tightness of Jazmin’s jaw, but besides the subtle shaking of her legs, she gave no other signs of coming unwound.
“Fuck,” she grit out, leaning farther over Geena and taking her hand from her own pussy, and slipping it under the shorter woman, expertly finding the sensitive bundle of nerves hiding there.
Geena took mere seconds, having been balanced on the edge for so long. Her orgasm was loud and messy compared to Jazmin’s, as she pushed back on the dildo hard, her face pink and her voice whimpering out sweet little noises of pure delight. Geena’s whole body quaked, and Jazmin looked supremely pleased as Geena came for her, unraveling like so much thread.
I had always seen Geena as supremely composed and confident, in perfect control of her body. Now, seeing her cede that control to another person, I felt like I was watching some kind of optical illusion. It was fascinating and strange and, I’ll admit, very sexy. Geena had always been the dominant one; now, here, she was not.
She must really trust Jazmin, I thought; for someone as strong as Geena to give up control, it must mean these two had incredible, unspeakable faith in each other. Unspeakable, of course, being why they had to resort to the tools they did to communicate with one another: it was only in the brief microseconds when leather met flesh did their conviction manifest. In the rapture of shared sexual release, I saw how much the two cared for each other. And I understood it, too, because that was what me and Geena had, as well.
You know what they say about love: it’s a universal language.
“Such a good job, coming for me like that,” Jazmine murmured for Geena only, helping her tenderly into a sitting position.
They kissed for a while, sloppy in the afterglow, before Jazmin left and returned in a robe, handing Geena another robe and a sweating bottle of water, cracking open one for herself.
Geena gently shrugged the robe on but didn’t touch the bottle of water. Not yet. Instead, she made her way over to me and began to untie me. Once the binds fell from my wrists, she offered me the water bottle.
My emotions were churning, my head still fuzzy. I accepted the offered bottle of water but spoke to neither of them, causing Jazmin to roll her eyes.
“Men only have enough blood for one of their heads at a time,” she commented.
“He’s probably still feeling the after-effects of whatever they gave him,” said Geena, her brow furrowed with concern as she brushed her hands over my face, as if searching for any marks.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, looking down at the water bottle in my lap. I opened it and drank deeply, wishing we could fast-forward past all of the trouble I was in. Or better yet, rewind, to before the party, so that I could do things differently.
“It’s not fine, Mike. I know you wanted to go to the party, but going alone wasn’t a smart thing to do. Something bad could have happened. There are parts of this campus, of this town, that aren’t safe unless you know the right people.”
Geena glanced over at Jazmin.
“Like you,” I said, quietly.
“Like me,” she agreed, gently. “…do you know why I love history, Mike? Because you can learn from it. And this town, this building, has so much history you know nothing about.”
“This building?” I repeated.
“The Bookshoppe,” clarified Jazmin.
“We’re in the Bookshoppe?” I said in shock. “The one of the Queen Building?”
“That’s right. It’s called The Basement. If you want, Mike, I can explain everything. In fact, I’d like to. For your own good. But I need you to promise me that, going forward, you’ll be more careful. I need you to understand that I can only protect you if you obey me.”
“I didn’t mean to–” I began. I was going to say disobey, but I realized that that wasn’t the point. Geena hadn’t forbid me from going to the Zeta Kappa Theta house, but she shouldn’t have needed to. I should have known better.
What’s more, I realized, Geena had brought me here not just to get me away from the party, but to have me meet Jazmin, to show me a bigger world than the tiny part occupied by her and I. The society we were in was broader and more complex than I could ever imagine, and Geena’s authority in it had to remain unchallenged, unquestioned. Under the umbrella of her protection, I was free to explore it… but only with her at my side, overseeing me to keep me safe. She was experienced in ways I wasn’t, and she had still more experienced people above her, creating a chain of safety and knowledge that went all the way down to… me.
Now, Geena was offering to teach me another lesson, to take my error in judgment and turn it into an opportunity. To grow. To learn. To open my eyes.
I had gone to the party to discover something new, to experience something I never had before. Now, here, in The Basement of the Queen Building, I was getting a second chance, all thanks to Geena. She hadn’t just saved me; she was giving me a chance to do more.
She offered me her hand. “Are you ready to learn some history, Mike?” she asked quietly, a mysterious little smile on her lips.
I looked up to meet her eyes. She had every right to be mad at me, for endangering myself, for disrupting her night. But there was nothing in her expression but loving, open sincerity.
I reached out and took her hand.
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