by D. L. Savage
Then, with a final gulp he let himself out of the room and into the hallway, the corridor to his dorms completely dark and deserted. Tony wasn’t much of a night owl. He never went out to bars or clubs, preferring to hang out online or study, and by this time of night, he’d normally be asleep. It felt so weird to be padding around campus well after dark like this. From behind the cracks in a few closed doors in his corridor he could see that lights were still on and he could hear the faint sounds of music and movies and laughter, but mostly there was a hushed, ominous silence.
He stepped out into the quad, feeling the cool air on his burning cheeks as he headed towards the laundry rooms, the embarrassment and nervousness seemingly increasing in him with each step he took towards his destination.
He almost couldn’t physically take much more of this. He really wished he were dead. He wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole, even if that was a great big cliché. Because now he finally understood how that actually felt.
Okay, let’s just fucking get this over with, he thought as he turned the corner to the shared laundry rooms.
And there, nonchalantly leaning against the wall, was Bethany, her menacing green eyes sparkling in the dark.
She was dressed in tight black spandex yoga pants and pink sneakers, with a simple light grey cotton hoody thrown over the top.
The moment Tony saw her, he felt a queasy lurch in his stomach, as if it had flipped right over on itself.
And then — despite the intense pangs of embarrassment he felt — what also flashed through his mind was the crystal clear image of Bethany's pert little titties with their rock-hard nipples, and that black cropped fuzz of pubic hair just above her shaved pink pussy lips, and the exact way she’d toyed with her clit and sucked her bottom lip into her pretty little mouth as she came, squirting and shivering …
“Hey,” Tony said, nervously, when he drew up close to her.
“Keep your fucking voice down,” Bethany hissed, her eyes darting up and down the corridor before meeting Tony’s once again. “I don’t want anyone to see us together. You understand, geek?”
“Sorry,” Tony whispered, feeling his face burning with shame, once again cursing himself for his total fucking stupidity at the thought that she would ever have found him attractive in the first place. He should have known ...
“Follow me,” she said, turning and heading through the doorway into the communal laundry rooms, which by now were silent and dark and shadowy. And as she walked off ahead of Tony, even in his current shameful state, his eyes still darted down to her ass, to the invitingly smooth pert curves of her buttocks beneath the stretchy black fabric of her yoga pants.
Bethany turned, leaning herself against one of the large washing machines and looking at Tony with what looked like disgust in her narrowed green eyes.
“Now listen closely,” she hissed, “cause I’m only gonna say this the once, you undersand?”
Tony nodded timidly.
“Unless you do exactly as I say, I’m gonna share that perverted video of you jacking off with everyone, and I mean everyone. Got it?”
Again Tony nodded.
“So these are your choices … Either you give me twenty thousand dollars, cash, by the end of the week …”
At this, Tony gasped. There was absolutely no way he would be able to lay his hands on that sort of cash, save for some sort of miracle. His parents were broke — spending every last dime they had on putting their only son through college in the first place. And the few people he considered friends he did have were totally broke too. No way, that wasn’t gonna work.
“Or?” he asked, hopefully.
“Or you follow my instructions, to the very last letter.”
“What instructions?” Tony murmured, his voice quavering with worry and fear now, just knowing that this wasn’t going to be good.
“Oh, you’ll see …”
There was a strange pause, and Tony felt Bethany looking at his face closely, really taking in his features.
“You know what? You’re kind of pretty in a way,” she said, a different, more reflective tone in her voice, more to herself than to Tony.
Pretty? Tony thought. No one had ever called him pretty before. He quickly brushed it from his mind, assuming she was making some kind of weird joke he didn’t get.
“What room are you in?” she asked.
Tony told her the number of his dorm room, again hearing the nervous quaver so obvious in his voice.
Bethany nodded to herself, then pierced him with her cold unwavering gaze once more.
“You’d betted do just what I say … You understand?”
Tony nodded.
“Good.”
And with that, she turned and left, strutting quickly back out of the laundry rooms, leaving Tony standing there, frozen and confused, his head spinning, wondering just what in the School she wanted from him …
* * *
“You feeling any better yet?” Mike asked, the following morning, getting out of bed and shrugging off his boxer shorts before padding over to grab a towel, ready for a trip to the communal shower block down the hall.
“Maybe,” Tony said, his head still spinning as he thought about what had taken place last night; meeting Bethany in that shadowy, silent laundry room. It felt kind of like a dream … Or more like a nightmare, perhaps ...
“Well, I certainly had a good time on my date with Stephanie, if you know what I mean!” Mike exclaimed, grabbing his cock and balls and shaking them vigorously in Tony’s direction.
“Gross!” Tony said, quickly turning his face away from Mike’s junk, but not before he caught an accidental glimpse. Like the rest of Mike’s body, even Mike’s cock was good-looking, too, nothing at all like Tony’s tiny little pencil dick and balls. No, Mike’s cock was thick and long, even flaccid, and his balls were so big and full and shaven. It looked like the kind of cock Tony sometimes saw in porn and felt envious about … Straight porn, of course …
Once Mike had left the room for a shower, Tony wearily pulled himself out of bed and wrapped his dressing gown around his thin frame, then padded over to his computer. And as he switched it on and waited for it to boot up, he felt his pulse beginning to race once again, and that same nauseous, queasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as he thought back over his actions of the last week.
Why had he ever done such a stupid fucking thing?
Why couldn’t he have just left his horny little dick alone for once?
Because even though he had got out of having to pay Bethany the twenty grand, he still suspected that this other thing would be worse somehow, whatever it was.
Finally his computer finished booting up, and Tony quickly turned it on and logged into his emails.
His heart sank: no new mail.
So today would be another day spent waiting in a tense suspenseful state, spent worrying and fretting about what that cruel little bitch had in store for him. There was something so cold and mean about her. Sure, she was fucking hot, but she was nasty too. She was downright evil, and Tony knew that whatever devious plan she had in store for him, it sure wasn’t going to be nice. It was going to be designed to make him squirm like a pathetic little worm.
As he opened his Chemistry textbook and tried to get down to some studying, a thing that Bethany had said at the end of their meeting in the laundry room floated once more into his head:
You know what? You’re kind of pretty in a way …
Tony stood up from his desk and walked over to Mike’s side of the dorm room, where, leaning against the wall next to his bed, was a large full-sized floor-length mirror.
He looked at himself in it, paying extra close attention to his face, leaning in, trying to see what Bethany had meant. And beneath the dirty brown peach fuzz of his four-day-old beard, and if you kind of ignored the dark bags under his eyes and his unruly, shitty haircut, then yes, maybe she had a point, maybe he was kind of ‘pretty’. He wished to God he was handsome i
nstead: rugged and manly and macho, like Mike and his football buddies. But no, this was definitely a much more feminine, girly kind of attractiveness. His lips were naturally full and his cheekbones were high and prominent. And his eyebrows were thin and kind of girly too.
Yeah, as hard as it was to admit it to himself, Bethany kind of had a point …
* * *
On Sunday, Tony had a sudden thought. He took a stroll down to the entrance hut to the campus, where any larger parcels or deliveries that don’t fit in the mailboxes were kept by the security guards in their hut.
“Any deliveries for Tony Adams?” he asked the sweaty, grinning security guard behind the desk, who got up from his chair with a creak and waddled over to the pile of packages on the shelf behind him.
And as the guard began sorting through, Tony’s own voice echoed around in his head: Tony, Tony, Tony … He’d always hated that name, always wished his parent’s had called him something else. He knew that if he’d been born a girl, they would have called him Tina …
Tina Adams, he thought. That sounds so much better ...
Just then his thoughts were interrupted by the gruff voice of the security guard. “Sign here.”
The guard thrust a clipboard curtly out towards Tony and he quickly scrawled his signature, then took receipt of the simple, plain brown package. His name and dorm room were scrawled on the front in black sharpie, but there were no other postal marks which meant it had been delivered by someone else nearby. This was it, he thought. This must be the next part of Bethany's plan, whatever it was.
As he walked back to his room, he fondled the package, trying to guess what might be inside. The contents felt so squishy and soft. He was about to go back to his room, when he suddenly thought that there might be something inside that would be embarrassing for Mike to see — Mike, who always spent all Sunday in his bed, dozing, listening to music on his iPod, reading men’s magazines or watching YouTube on his laptop — so instead Tony took the package into the communal boy’s toilets and shower rooms at the end of the corridor, and locked himself safely inside one of the stalls right at the far end.
He could feel his heart beginning to drum in his chest and his hands becoming clammy with nervousness and anticipation as he sat down on top of the closed lid of the toilet and drew a deep breath. Then, when he felt as ready as he’d ever be, he nervously tore open the package.
Something shiny and black met his eye, and when he reached in to touch it, it felt silky and soft like human hair. He pulled it out and held it up: a long black wig.
What the fuck? Tony thought.
He reached into the package again and this time touched soft thin fabric. He pulled whatever it was he was touching out and inspected it: a small cotton vest top, cut almost identically to that white cotton vest he’d seen Bethany wear the night of The Webcam Incident.
He reached in again and this time pulled out a black pleated mini-skirt. As Tony pulled out the items of clothing, one by one, it began to dawn on him just what Bethany would probably want from him. This was some kind of costume, wasn’t it? She was expecting him to dress up in them!
He stuck his hand back into the package, and this time his fingers touched against something small, a wispy little band of elastic: pink thong panties, he realized when he pulled them out.
He held them up to his face to look at them closely. Tony had never really had a chance to look at a pair of thong panties up close before. He knew that nearly all the girls at college wore them. Sure, he’d seen them in photos and things, and — if he was lucky — he might see the top of a pair sticking out of the yoga pants of some girl in the row ahead of him in class once in a while, but he’d never actually been with a girl who wore them (or any girl at all for that matter).
He looked at that thin strip of fabric at the back, the one that went up between the ass cheeks, and felt a strange little shiver of anticipation and excitement at the thought of putting them on, finally finding out what it felt like for all those sexy girls around campus, who wore them all the time like it was no big deal …
Then another strange idea came into Tony’s head, too. He lifted the gusset of the panties up to his nose and gently sniffed. And sure enough, he could smell Bethany on them. He could smell the sweet, slightly warm, pungent scent of her pussy. Fuck, he thought. These were her panties, not even washed!
He reached into the package again, this time pulling out a pair of long black woolen stockings. When he sniffed the toes of them, he realized that they too were unwashed, and this sent another strange thrill of excitement through Tony’s slim body. He’d never considered himself the kind of guy who got turned on by girls’ dirty panties and stockings before today, but he had to admit that there was something pretty hot and kinky about breathing in Bethany's most private scents, fresh from her hot little body. The last item of clothing was a bra: in a matching pink to the thong.
He reached into the package a final time, and this time his fingers touched against something very different: something hard and long and kind of tacky to the touch. He knew what it was before he even pulled it out. With a trembling hand he removed it from the brown paper package: and sure enough, it was a long pink realistic-looking dildo, complete with a bulbous head at one end, and large round balls at the other.
And when Tony lifted it to his nose to sniff it, he realized with another shudder that this too smelled — strongly — of Bethany ...
* * *
Tony kept the package stuffed deep beneath his bed, waiting for a time when Mike would go out again so that he could look at the items in more detail. And with each moment he waited, the more his mind became fixated on the items the package contained: that flimsy little thong and that big thick dildo ...
He even found himself getting a little turned on at the idea of pulling those panties up, feeling them fit snugly between his ass cheeks, knowing that they had been worn against Bethany's pussy and ass too: the silky gusset of her thong pressing tightly against the very same cropped black rectangle of pubic hair and shaved pink pussy lips that he had seen on her webcam.
While Tony waited for Mike to leave the room, secretly cursing him under his breath, he checked his emails and felt another pang of … What? Excitement? Fear? Both? — when he saw that he had one new message from Bethany Turner, sent at 2:55pm that afternoon.
The subject of the email was simply ‘Instructions’ and Tony opened it, feeling his stomach twisting itself in a knot in anticipation and his heart hammering hard against in his chest.
Listen up, Slut, the email read. If you haven’t already worked it out, there’s a package waiting for you at the security hut by the front gates. Inside you’ll find a few things to try on. I want to see how pretty you can be, you girly little slut. Okay? And what’s more, I want you to film yourself, dressed up in the outfit I provided, and I want you to fuck your tight little ass with that dildo and then send me the video. You understand? Because if you don’t do just as I say, slut, then I’m gonna show everyone in this whole fucking school just what a dirty little pervert you really are.
You have until midnight on Friday to comply.
Tony read back over the email again and again, taken aback at Bethany's venom and her seeming hatred for him.
Why was she doing this? he wondered. What had he ever done to her? When he thought back over the events that had led him to this point, he realized that it had all been her doing — she was the one who had asked him for help, she was the one who had asked him to cam with her, and now she was the one who was asking him to do this …
Not just asking … blackmailing.
Tony turned in his chair and looked over his shoulder at Mike, sprawled so carelessly out on his bed, his eyes closed, his iPod blasting away in his ears, his mouth curled in a simple smile. What a lucky bastard, Tony thought. Lying there without a single care in the School.
Then his mind turned once more to that package beneath his bed.
I could go to the police, Tony thought. Th
is is blackmail. I could get Bethany expelled.
But there was something holding him back from doing so; something deep down inside him that was actually curious. Something deep within him that actually wanted to try the clothes she’d sent on, at least, before he turned her in.
Yeah, I’ll at least try those things on, Tony thought, surprised at how excited and turned on he seemed to be getting at the simple thought of wearing those exact same clothes that Bethany had wore …
I’ll try them on, just once, and then I’ll report her.
* * *
It seemed like Mike would never leave the fucking room. Tony waited all through Sunday, and then on Monday he was the one to leave – for his 9am Chemistry lecture. He took a seat right near the back, keeping low in his seat, feeling his ears burning as he looked around the large hall for Bethany and her friends — a mean-faced group of girls from her sorority, who always sat together and whispered and giggled and laughed.
When his eye finally sought her out, over toward the left of the auditorium, leaning in and smiling and whispering something to a pretty redhead with large, buxom breasts, Tony’s stomach flipped over on itself.
That lecture, he took hardly any notes, instead spending all his time wondering and worrying if Bethany had already told anyone about his perverted antics, or whether she had really been true to her word and kept things quiet …
Finally the lecture finished and all the students got up and began filing out through the large set of double-doors at the top of the tiered auditorium. Tony moved quickly, just wanting to get the fuck out of there and away from Bethany, and he swore he could feel her mean green eyes boring into the back of his head as he made for the door.
He quickly scurried back to his dorm, thankful that he didn’t have any more classes until Wednesday. As he let himself into the room, he also realized that Mike was finally gone somewhere, too.
He padded over to the large timetable that Mike had tacked onto his side of the room, above his bed, next to a poster of a naked oiled chick, bending over, spreading her ass cheeks, her tight, puckered little asshole visible between them. Tony ignored the poster and sought out today’s date on Mike’s study calendar. Sure enough, Mike was busy with lectures and seminars and group study until at least 6pm.