Secretly Seduced: The Interview Series Book One (4 page)

     “We need a break.  I need a
break.  I’ll get us another glass of wine,” said an exhausted Mike
swinging his legs off the bed.

     “Can I help,” asked Stacy?

     “No, you just stay here being
beautiful and thinking dirty thoughts,” said Mike heading toward the kitchen.

     “I love your butt,” said Stacy
watching Mike walk out of the room.

     “It’s all yours,” replied Mike
slapping himself on the butt as he disappeared toward the kitchen.

      “Oh that was so fucking
incredible,” purred Stacy as she stretched.  “I hope we do it some more.”

     “Stacy, shit, I’m sorry. I thought
you’d gone home for the weekend,” cried Portia when Stacy walked in the dorm
room the two girls shared.  Stacy frequently drove home to Weston Friday
nights not returning until Sunday evening.  In the dim light allowed by
drawn shades, Stacy could see Portia had male company.

     In a residence hall where arguments
between roommates were an everyday occurrence Stacy and Portia had gotten along
in spite of or maybe because they had little in common.  They’d remained
on good terms since the semester began.  In most ways, they were
opposites.

     “Stacy’s a WASP princess and I’m a
Goth peasant.  She’s rich.  I’m poor.  She’s tall, gorgeous,
tanned, and blonde with a big rack.  I’m average height, okay looking,
sickly white, and a mousy brunette with an average rack.  She’s a good
girl. I’m a total slut.” was how Portia summed it up.

     Their backgrounds were equally
dissimilar.  Portia’s parents were elementary school teachers in Trenton,
New Jersey.  Income from Harvard’s monumental endowment paid all her tuition. 
She’d scored a perfect fourteen hundred on her SATs.  Her genius IQ and
encyclopedic knowledge alone would not have gotten her into Harvard. 
However, Portia’s skill at the piano had won several competitions for young
performers and the Boston Sympathy had recently played one of her compositions
in their summer program.

      Portia made pocket money
playing for rehearsals and occasionally sitting in on keyboard for a missing
band member.  The two girls did not hang out together.  Stacy
occasionally caught a glimpse of glimpse of Portia playing different
instruments with her Goth friends at the Harvard Square subway entrance.

     Dorm life had evolved an unwritten
rule no boys would stay overnight if the other roommate was present.  Sex
with the dorm mate nearby was considered rude and bad form.

     Both girls were sophomores whose
rooming together was brought about by the random workings of the school’s
housing computer.  Stacy’s freshman roommate and best friend, Adele, a
girl she had known from grade school, had dropped out after her freshman
year.  She currently lived in an ashram outside Mumbai where she serviced
her yoga master daily when she wasn’t busy selling herself in the streets to
earn money for him.

     When Stacy walked into the room,
Portia was lying between the legs of one male student sucking his cock while
another was energetically taking her from behind. The boy’s cock pummeling
Portia’s rear reminded Stacy her own orifices were sore and raw.  The
sounds and smells of raw sex filled the small room.

       “Something happened, I
stayed with a friend,” said Stacy unsure of what to say.

       “I’ll tell them to
leave, Monk, Les, you have to go,” said Portia gasping for breath, her hand
still clutching the fully erect cock that seconds ago was lodged in the
entrance to her throat.  Portia had a taste for being manhandled and
throat fucked.  If the light had been better, the hand prints on her
flanks would have been visible.

       “Shit, Portia, you said
we could shag all afternoon. We’re tired of fucking you behind the dumpster,”
said the boy underneath Portia straining to look in Stacy’s direction. 
Stacy recognized him as one of Portia’s Goth musician friends, Les. 
They’d been briefly introduced.  His head was shaved except for a narrow
spiked stripe of green hair traversing the center of his scalp.  He was
pierced to the point of hideousness and heavily tattooed. The other student
riding Port’s ass was called Monk. His bodily adornment was similar to Les’s,
spiked hair, multiple piercing, and skin art it would take several minutes to
properly view.  Portia also had a Goth’s share of tattoos and body
piercing including a dual row of rings in her labia major.

     But what really caught Stacy’s
attention in spite of her mental and emotional exhaustion was the piercing of
Les’s cock that at the moment was resting in Portia’s hand.  A row of
barbells was evenly spaced crosswise along the bottom of his scrotum piercing
the ridge of skin.  The effect was to both decorate and tighten his ball
sack.  Even more attention getting was the large curved barbell piercing
his cock head from the top emerging through his piss hole.

     Ouch thought Stacy wondering what
kind of anesthetic was used during the insertion of the barbell.  Stacy
watched as Portia tongued the metal balls on each end of the curved bar. 
A clicking sound emerged from her mouth, as her pair of tongue studs came in
contact with the other student’s hardware.

     Her curiosity as to whether Monk
was similarly pierced was answered when Monk’s cock by intent or mistake slid
onto the top of Portia’s tattooed rear revealing a similar adornment. 
From somewhere, Stacy recalled having your cock pierced in that fashion was
referred to as a Prince Albert.  She had no idea why.  She also wondered
how it would feel to have a Prince Albert cock inside her vagina.  Since
Portia was neither screaming nor bleeding it was obviously doable.  And
from the look of extreme pleasure on Portia’s face as Monk slipped his cock
back in her pussy, it must increase the sensation of intercourse.

     The two boys looked expectedly at
Stacia, hoping she would decide to join them.

     “No, it’s all right. They can
stay.  Just keep it down.  I need to sleep.  I’m exhausted,”
said Stacy wondering how anybody could find the courage to have their sexual
organs pierced.  Stacy had a strong aversion to pain of any kind. 
That prompted Stacy to recall Portia had several rings through her labia and a
small half ring in the hood over her clitoris. Rings pierced her nipples and
there was a labret in her lip in addition to the stud in her tongue. 
Stacy’s parents had strictly forbidden her tattoos or piercing other than her
ear lobes.

     “Been fucking all night, huh,
Stacy,” asked Monk holding his cock up for Stacy to see?

     “Yes, I think so,” said Stacy
wearily bring a surprised look to Portia’s face.  “I need to shower.”

     Stacy unconsciously set aside her
normal modesty slipping out of her shirts and jeans.  The fact Monk and Les
were watching didn’t seem to matter.  Portia was surprised Stacy wasn’t
wearing underwear and hadn’t gone into the bathroom to undress.

      “Join us, Stacy.  We got
enough dick for the two of you,” said Monk his hands firmly gripping Portia’s
hips pulling her onto his member.

       “You two leave Stacy
alone or I’ll kick your butts out of here,” said Portia.  “My God, Stacy,
what’s that written on your ass?”

       “Huh, what is it?” said
Stacy twisting around to look.  She could see there was writing on her
behind but she could not make out the words.  Stacy walked over to
Portia’s bed and turned around.

     “Whore, Slut, and Anal Queen,
printed in felt tip.  Someone drew a bulls eye around your asshole,” read
Portia.  “Did you pass out at a party?”

     “Something like that,” said Stacy
straining to twist around and see.

     “Too much Ecstasy,” said Monk
putting his hand on Stacy’s bottom.  “Whoever did it, sure printed
neat.  You got a nice ass, just made for fucking.”

     “I don’t remember anything about
it,” said Stacy surprising herself by allowing Monk’s hand to stay.  “I
woke up in my car.  Someone stole my underwear.”

     “Probably pulled a train, that’s
what happens to a girl who does too much E at a party.  Were you thirsty
as hell when you woke up?” asked Les reaching out to feel Stacy’s sex. 
Les’s fingers gently touched her clit then moved down to her opening.

     “Ouch, my pussy’s sore.  Yes,
I was thirsty,” said Stacy feeling tenderness at the opening to her
vagina.  That was when Stacy realized someone had shaved off the small
patch of hair that covered her sex.

     “They shaved my pussy,” said Stacy
starting to cry as she sat down on the bed beside the three.  Les and Monk
took advantage of her proximity to feel Stacy’s large breasts.

     “Hands off her, assholes. 
Can’t you see she’s hurting,” said Portia slapping Les and Monk’s hands away.

     “I’ll be all right after a hot
shower and some sleep,” said Stacy standing up then walking toward the
bathroom.

     “Maybe you should go to the clinic
and get checked for STDs,” said Portia as Stacy walked away.

     “I need rest first,” said Stacy
disappearing into the bathroom.  “I feel like a zombie.”

     “Weird, huh,” said Monk still
maintaining his rhythmic pounding into Portia’s vagina after Stacy disappeared
into the bathroom.

     “Beyond weird, I hope she’s all
right,” said Portia.  “That wasn’t the Stacy Todd I know.”

     “Surprised you care.  I
thought you said the two of you weren’t friends,” said Monk.

     “Yeah, you call her the rich bitch
all the time.  She’s a snob all right but a snob with a terrific set of
tits,” said Les.  “I wonder if they’re real.”

     “We don’t have anything in
common.  We’re not friends. We’re roommates.  But we get along. 
She’s not a bad person.  She can’t help being rich.  Now are we here
to fuck or discuss my roommate’s tits,” said Portia leaning down to deliver a
passionate kiss to Les’s cockhead.

     “I’m here to screw your whore’s
ass.  Take this, slut,” said Monk taking a firmer grip on Portia’s flanks
and pounding her hard for five quick deep strokes as he delivered an open palm
that left a red handprint on Portia’s rear.

     “Yeah, that’s it. Slam my pussy
hard, slam it,” said Portia pushing back to increase the force of the
collision.

     “But it would have been nice if
Stacy had been willing to make it a four way,” said Les in the more relaxed
position of getting his cock sucked.

      “Honestly, I about shit when
she undressed in front of you too. Miss Modesty usually undresses in the bathroom. 
I haven’t seen her naked but once or twice.  When she walked over here and
let you two feel her up, I almost lost it.  WASPs normally only allow
other WASPS to touch their pussy.  The drugs must not have worn off,” said
Portia before returning to sucking Les’s cock.

       “She’s lucky if all
they did was screw her and write on her ass.  Did you hear what happened
to Marsha Hemmings?” said Monk.

      “No, who the fuck is Marsha
Hemmings,” asked Portia circling Monk’s cock head with her tongue?

      “B school grad student, she
passed out at a house party a week ago.  Her former best friend, Chloe
Milton, had a hardon for Marsha something about screwing her fiancé while Chloe
was home for her father’s funeral,” said Monk.

     “Marsha had no idea Chloe had found
out,’ said Les.  “So it was one big fucking surprise.”

     “Chloe doped her with Ecstasy and
Rohypnol.  When Marsha passed out she stripped her naked for all
assembled, and that was upwards of fifty, to see and touch.  Talked most
of the guys and several of the girls into doing her for the video camera,” said
Monk.

     “Has Stacy been screwing around
with anybody’s boy friend,” asked Les?

     “I don’t keep track of her but I
don’t think she’s had a date since school started.  I think she’s
asexual.  She’s real intent on her grades and going to the Olympics,” said
Portia.

      “Oh yeah, the skeet thing,”
said Les.  “Tell Portia what else happened to Marsha.”

      “Chloe takes a barber shears,
cuts all her hair off then shaves the dumb cunt’s head bald as a cue
ball.  Now this is where it gets totally bizarre.  Chloe had this
other girl friend whose boy friend owns a tattoo parlor.  The boy friend
brings his fellow skin artists to the party and they ink the word, Whore,
around her bare scalp like a border, using large block letters so it was easy
to read.  Then they tat a pussy right down the center of her skull,” said
Monk.

     “And it was way cool too, a big
hairy nasty looking snatch.  You could see the clit, the lips, and the
hole was open and there was jism leaking out,” said Les.  “It was fucking
awesome.”

     “Chloe must have been seriously
pissed,” said Portia trying to picture the image of a vagina tattooed on a bare
cranium.

     “She was.  She told everyone
it was because she was away at her dad’s funeral when Marsha screwed her
intended.  She felt betrayed,” said Les.

     “And to make sure everyone knows
about it, she whips out a digital camera and takes images of bald Marsha
sucking cock, eating pussy, and being triple penetrated.  She loaded them
on one of the B school servers and had another friend do the same on one of
MIT’s big servers. Then she emailed the entire class the download addresses.
Half the B-school had downloaded a copy before the dean had them removed,” said
Monk.

     “Do you have a copy,” asked Portia?

     “Of course, poor Marsha’s telling
everyone she’s going to have to move to Tibet and become a Buddhist nun,” said
Monk.

     “I’ve got the image files on my
hard drive,” said Les.

     “Email them to me,” said Portia.

      “I heard Chloe for a finale
stuck a cucumber way up Marsha’s ass. When she woke, she had a horrible pain in
her gut. They removed it at the ER,” said Les.  “Kyle, this guy who’s an
orderly tells me students are always showing up with crazy things stuck in her
butt.”

     “Yeah, I forgot that part. 
Ever stuck a vegetable in your cunt, Portia?” asked Monk.

     “Carrots, I did some carrots when I
was in high school. And once I let my boy friend fuck my pussy with a cucumber
but nothing in my ass.  I hope nothing bad happened to Stacy,” said
Portia.

     “The only thing they shaved is her
snatch,” said Les.  “She looks okay.”

     “I hope she learned her lesson
about being careful who she parties with,” said Portia.