Movie Night Ch 02 9

Author's note: This chapter contains elements of femdom, humiliation, bullying, and non-consensual sexuality. Reader discretion is advised.

Tara looked at him like he was a roach, or some other disgusting insect, when he approached her in the hall at their university that morning. "We need to talk," Marcus hissed.

"When we need to talk, I'll find you, loser," she spat, adjusting her course to try to walk around him.

In the mornings this hallway didn't have too many people in it, because most of his peers liked sleeping through early classes, but still it was far from private, and the last thing he wanted to do was to make a scene. A beautiful bitch like Tara and an awkward guy like Marcus? People would remember that. That could make for rumors, and with everything else going on, that was the last thing he wanted.

"I just found out," he tried again, raising his voice slightly as he looked to make sure no one else was around. "Joshua said--"

That at least made Tara stop dead in her tracks. This time she didn't look at him like he was a bug, she looked at him like she wanted to murder him, as she quickly turned around, and two steps toward him so that they were inches apart. Even though she was a couple inches shorter than him, her presence made it feel like she was looming over him.

"I said, Not. Fucking. Now," she growled. " You do not talk to me, because you do not know me, and you don't know me because as far as I'm concerned, you don't even exist unless I need you."

"But I--" he started to protest before she cut him off.

"You really want to do this?" she asked in a tone that dripped with sarcasm. "Fine. Meet me after class. The janitor's closet in the math wing. It should be pretty deserted this time of day, but if it's not important, I'll make you regret wasting my time."

Then, before I could rebut her or even try to explain, she was gone, leaving me standing there while the other students that happened to be in the hall gave me strange looks.

Marcus went to his Psych 102 class, but he was a zombie for the duration and barely paid attention. He'd been like that a lot the last couple of weeks since that horrible night, but this was the first time he'd worked up the nerve to talk to Tara since then, and it only made everything else worse.

With his previous conquests, there had been a subtle sense of power whenever he saw those women smile at him, or pass him in the hall without any idea of what they'd done together. It had been thrilling. Even with Kelly, that was true, albeit with a healthy dose of fear. Marcus had seen his roommate's girlfriend pretty much every other day since the night everything had happened, and it was obvious that neither of them suspected anything.

Not Tara though. Just seeing her sent a chill of fear down his spine. To everyone else, he was just a nerd or the quiet guy. Not her though. She knew who he really was. She'd seen right through him before he'd tried to drug her, but now she had proof. She could end him whenever she wanted, and he had no doubt she would either. That's just who she was.

So he just spiraled between all the different fears that were chasing themselves around in his mind. A led to B, B led to C, and C led to A. No matter how things went over the next few days he didn't see how he was going to avoid becoming a public embarrassment before they shipped him off to pound-you-in-the-ass prison for 5-7 on rape, and once that cycle started there was no way of knowing how many other women might come forward.

Some of them might be women he'd actually drugged. He knew that more than one suspected something had happened to them, they just had no idea who did it, or what exactly they did, but that didn't matter. Bitches loved to go full me too about this sort of thing, and once it started, there would be no stopping it.

Finally, when class was done he rushed to the math hall, and when no one was looking he darted in the janitors supply room only to find that Tara was already inside it, playing on her phone.

"Took you long enough," she said, not bothering to look up. "Two more minutes, and I was going to bounce."

"She's pregnant," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, even with the door closed.

"Yeah, I know," Tara smiled, finally putting down her phone. It was a wicked, icy thing that terrified him almost as much as the fact that she already knew. "It's great!"

"Great?" Marcus asked, still in denial, "How is that great?"

"It means that bitch's life is over, that's why." she said defensively. "It means she's going to lock down Joshua, and her life is pretty much over."

"You have to talk to her," Marcus said, unsure why she wasn't getting this. "You have to convince her to get an abortion. She's going to have my baby, and that means---"

"Hey, loser," she interrupted. "If I wanted her to get an abortion, why would I have wasted half of my weekend convincing her that she's going to make a great mommy, and that she should definitely keep it. The fact that those two are going to be stuck with your loser baby is just icing on the cake. Josh and Kelly are both ten times more attractive than you'll ever be, and they're going to be stuck with your genes anyway. What an ugly ass--"

Marcus was seeing red before she'd finished saying that it was her fault Kelly was going to keep the baby, but with every hateful word Tara word spewed after that, his heart pounded harder in his chest until he finally couldn't even hear her anymore. He could just watch her mouth move to the sound of his blood in his ears while he thought about skull-fucking the dumb cunt.

He didn't even know that he'd wrapped his big hands around her thought to silence her until she was already gasping against the wall.

Tara hadn't brought her hands up to try to pull his away, though. She just glared at him instead while her face began to purple.

"Go on... Do it..." she rasped. "Kill me."

That stopped him faster than anyone else. He could never kill someone. He wasn't a murder. He looked at his hands, trying to figure out what had happened, and what horrible thing Tara was going to do to him now as a result.

The last thing he expected her to do was laugh, but that was what he heard while she coughed and sucked in a few breaths. Even after everything that had happened, she was laughing at him.

"God, you are such a bitch," she laughed. Far from enraging him, those words took the fight right out of him. They were practically a slap in the face.

"I'm sorry," Marcus started to say, "I--"

"Fuck your sorry," Tara said, pushing him against the other wall of the small room hard enough that he almost tripped over the janitor's bucket. "Don't you get it yet? I fucking own you. Even if you kill me, you're still going to end up in prison - at least until they give you the fucking needle you prick."

"Needle?" Marcus asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"You won't have to worry about that," she answered, stepping uncomfortably close, but there was nowhere to go to get away from her. "A little bitch like you would never actually kill someone. You don't have it in you. You're only tough when the girl is unconscious and can't fight back."

"That's not true," he protested, "I can - Hey! What the hell are you doing?" As he started to speak, Tara had shoved her right hand into his loose fitting cargo pants, and even as he protested, she was wrapping her cool slender fingers around his dick.

"I'm doing whatever I want," she said, locking her gaze with his. "If you don't like it then quit being a little bitch and stop me."

"I can't... I..." Marcus gasped as she started to stroke her hand up and down his hard cock. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. The way her fist pumped up and down, just under his glans, making the foreskin glide and move. It was about a thousand times better than when he jerked himself off, but Marcus had no idea if it felt so good because someone else was doing it, or if it was because of the circumstances, since this was the first time another woman had ever touched him sexually of her own free will.

"No? The big, strong man can't stop the sweet college sophomore?" she asked teasingly, in a voice that was dropping with sexuality. "Pathetic. I can't believe this makes you hard. What kind of man gets hard when he's being told what a loser he is anyway?"

"Please stop," Marcus said through gritted teeth as he tried again to push her away, but she wouldn't let him go, and she literally had him by the balls, so there wasn't much he could do.

At first, he'd worried that she was going to get him hard and then leave him high and dry, but now he realized it was probably worse than that. She probably wanted to make him cum as quickly as possible, just to make him feel even smaller than she already did. Honestly, Marcus wasn't sure he could cope with that kind of shame with everything else that was going on.

"If you don't get your hands off my tits right now, I'm going to scream rape," she said dryly, without bothering to stop her efforts to jerk him off.

It was only when she said that he pulled his hands off her breasts like they were a hot stove. He'd been aching to find out what her tiny little tits looked like that night, but he'd never gotten the chance. He doubted he ever would now. He just knew that the last thing he wanted to do right now was aggravate her.

"God, look at you," she laughed, speeding her hand up. "A girl has her hand on your dick, and even then you can bring yourself to show a little spine. I don't think I've ever known a bigger loser than you. You're not an insect. You're a fucking worm."

"It's not... I'm not... oh fuck," Marcus moaned, grabbing on to a nearby shelf as he felt his balls start to tighten. He didn't know what he wanted now. Did he want to her to make him cum? Did he want her to stop? Why was she doing this?

"Don't lie. You're so pathetic, I can see right through you," she whispered, leaning closer and making the whole humiliating ordeal seem so much more intimate. "I know you jerked off to what we did together every night this week, didn't you? I'll bet nothing you've ever done turned you on more than the night I made you breed that blond slut, and you don't even know why, do you?"

Marcus didn't answer, but he blushed as he was called out like that. He didn't know how she could possibly know those things, but she was completely right. Part of his misery was that he'd been hard as a rock all week, and that no matter how much he jerked off to Kelly's perfect tits while he listened to his roommate bang her in the next room, it hadn't helped.

"I'll tell you a secret," she leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "It's because trash like you needs someone to tell them what to do. You'll never be happier in your whole life than when I'm making you risk everything just to ruin one of the bitches I hate, and when I'm done with you, I'm just going to throw you away anyway."

"No..." he moaned, not wanting to believe that those awful things could possibly be true.

His head swirled with questions, at least until she finally said, "How does it feel to know that the only time you'll ever get your pathetic dick wet is when you're raping some poor unconscious woman."

It was a terrible sentence. One he'd never contemplated before now, but it cut right through his heart. Humiliatingly, it also pushed him over the edge, and his came hard in his underwear as his tormentor continued to stroke his dick and pump every last drop of sperm out of his cock.

When she was done, she pulled her cum covered hand from his pants and brought it to her mouth, sucking a particularly large dollop off of one of her fingers and considering it for a moment before she spat it out on the ground.

"It even tastes terrible," she laughed. "No girl is ever going to want your cum anywhere near her." as she finished speaking, she wiped her hand off on his cheek while Marcus stood there stunned.

"You better get cleaned up before everyone finds out that you're a pervert that jack off at school," she said, turning to leave. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go visit the ladies room and rinse off the scent of despair. There's nothing more repulsive."

"But--" Marcus protested, trying to find his way through the pleasure that was still running riot through his system enough to object.

"But nothing. Next time, don't call me. Next time I'll call you. You just sit at home and jerk off like a good little boy or next time I'll do so much worse to you than this," she smiled evilly, before she turned and left him there with cum filled underwear and a hard on that throbbed painfully in his pants.

He'd come here today to figure out what they were going to do about the baby, but he was leaving without even the scraps of dignity that he'd had until now.