Authors: Laurel Adams
Tags: #group sex, #Bdsm, #college, #menage, #erotic, #alpha, #Erotica
Melanie is on target to graduate from college with honors, which means she doesn't have time for boyfriends. At least not boyfriends who never give her the rough play she really wants. She dumped the last guy after finally confessing her dark fantasy in a letter, only to have her wishes utterly ignored. But all that changes one night in the library when two of her ex boyfriends team up to give Melanie a late night surprise that's everything she wants and more.
Reader Advisory: This erotic story of approximately 5k words contains forceful alpha heroes, M/f/M group sex, menage, bondage, gags, rough-play, and some intense studying. For adults only.
THEIR STRAIGHT-A STUDENT
Their Straight-A Student
Copyright © 2014 Laurel Adams
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Melanie Forsythe was a straight-A student, on schedule to graduate with honors. One more year until graduation, and all she had to do was keep her grades up. Which meant staying away from guys and other distractions. Or at least, that's what she told herself when she dumped her last boyfriend.
She couldn't get serious. Not when her future looked so bright. But the truth was, she'd never dated a guy who could give her what she really wanted; they were all too timid. And Melanie had no time for underachievers in the bedroom or anywhere else…
With a big history exam in the morning, she decided to camp out at the college library that night. It was quiet with a great view of the lake, and she could concentrate on her studies without anyone bothering her. Though the building was locked from the outside at night, the janitors always let her stay if she wanted to and Melanie planned to study until morning.
She even brought a pillow.
It wasn't until well past the witching hour that she finally decided to take a break.
She got up, stretched, then put her head down on her book, promising herself that she'd just close her eyes
for a minute
The truth is, she never heard them coming.
Melanie woke up to her arm being twisted painfully behind her back and a gloved hand over her mouth. "Get up slowly, come with us and everything will be fine," a man whispered in her ear as another grabbed at her legs. Though Melanie ought to have been groggy from her nap, sheer terror made her wide awake. Her heart raced wildly and her first instinct was to fight. Her body flailed against her attackers and she screamed but the sound was muffled under the gloved hand over her mouth.
As the men dragged her toward the stairwell door, she kicked her desk chair over. She even managed to knock books onto the floor. But there were two of them and they were strong. Melanie's struggles were all for naught.
Once in the stairwell, she felt the cool click of metal around her wrist. She realized that one of the men had handcuffed her to the stairs by the railing. Then the man covering her mouth took his hand off and she screamed bloody murder. "Help me! Help! Someone help me! They're going to kill me!"
"We're not going to kill you, Melanie," said a familiar voice. "But you can go ahead and scream. This stairwell is all concrete blocks and no windows. No one can hear you. No one else is even in the library."
That's when one of her attackers stepped out from the shadows and she saw his face. She blinked several times. It was
. Clayton Thomas. Her ex-boyfriend. The one she broke up with over the summer. She'd agreed to go out with him in the first place because the tall and handsome African American was the only guy in her Political Science class who knew the answer to every damned question. He'd totally blown the bell curve.
He was also the only guy in the whole school she really lusted for, not that he'd been up to the challenge when she'd given him the opportunity. How was it that he was the smartest guy in the class, but never seemed to figure out that Melanie liked it rough?
Well, he seemed to have figured it out now…
"We're not going to hurt you, Mel," Clayton said. "At least, we're not going to hurt you the way you think." To prove it, he nodded to his friend—the guy who had twisted her arm behind her back. That guy released her arm and started to rub the pain away. Clayton took her abused wrist from his friend, and clicked another cuff around it, handcuffing that to the railing too.
"We just want to fuck you," the other guy said.
Melanie knew his voice too. Recognized it now, when she hadn't before in her groggy state. It was Brad Avery, the captain of the basketball team. Tall, thin, and
shy. She'd dated him freshman year. By the time he mustered up the gumption to do more than feel her up, Melanie had already decided not to waste her time.
Was it even possible that such a normally sweet guy had just whispered in her ear that he wanted to
her? She wasn't sure what any of this was about, but there was a part of her that hoped they were for real.
"You broke my heart, girl," Clayton said, with a sigh.
She'd broken Clay's heart? That was news to her. She was so stunned she had nothing to say.
He continued, "One minute, you couldn't get enough of my black ass, and the next, you kicked me to the curb. But at least I got a taste of you. Brad tells me you wouldn't give it up to him; that you were a cock-tease. Well, ever hear of Revenge Sex, Mel? This is it."
His words made her acutely aware of her vulnerability. Melanie was trapped by the handcuffs, arms separated, and slightly higher than her shoulders. And she'd have been more turned on if she wasn't sure they were just screwing around. "I wouldn't fuck either of you if you paid me, you losers. Let me go and maybe, just maybe, you won't end up in jail!"
Clayton leaned back against the stairwell door and stared. "That's not a very respectful tone to use with the man who holds the keys to your handcuffs."
He dangled them before her and Brad laughed.
"This isn't funny," Melanie said, feeling her face heat up with fury. "You'd better let me go before both of you regret this for the rest of your lives."
Clayton looked at his friend with a helpless sort of shrug as if to say:
I told you so
. "Right. So, that's part of the kink, right? That's what you fantasize about? Saying how much you don't want it, when you really do. Being forced…"
Melanie heard herself swallow. That
her kink. That was her fantasy. Not that she'd ever admitted it to either of them. She'd found the courage to write it down in a letter once to Clayton, but she was pretty sure he never read it. At least, he never said anything about it, and she couldn't just explicitly
what she wanted because that would have ruined the fantasy. But if her two ex-boyfriends had somehow cobbled it together in order to give her what she wanted, she might seriously be falling in love…with both of them.
The fear in her body rushed out, only to be replaced by a throbbing need.
"You're not going to admit it?" Clayton asked. "See, now might be the time to speak up…before you can't." With that, he reached into a bag by his feet, pulling out a gag with a life-size dildo meant to fit into the mouth. "All you've got to do is shake your head if you don't want it, Melanie. Shake your head, and we'll let you go. Otherwise, you're going to get everything you've been fantasizing about…and quite a bit more."
All she had to do was shake her head to make it stop. She
stop it; she really should. After all, they were in a library. She had an exam in the morning. Even if she'd wanted her fantasy to come true, it didn't mean she wanted it here, now, and with these two. Especially not Clay, who was her rival for the valedictorian's spot…
All she had to do was shake her head.
But somehow, she didn't.
want it. She was desperate for it. She only hoped they wouldn't make her say it. Thankfully, Clayton walked over to his struggling prey and with a wrestler's efficiency, he strapped the gag onto her head and pushed the dildo with such force into her mouth that it went in.
She bit and screamed, kicking out at him. That's when his partner said, "You can kick and struggle, Melanie. I know you have to. It's part of who you are. But let us make things a little easier for you. We have some things to do, and if you struggle, you might be hurt accidentally, and we don't want that."
Brad withdrew a pair of shears from the bag and approached her as she screamed over the gag, tears of sexual need and fear now springing to her eyes. She eyed the scissors in terror and stopped moving.
"Good, very good," he said, unbuttoning her blouse and pulling it out of her skirt. It was a plaid and white shirt, and Clayton's dark face split with a gleaming smile, as if he was surprised to see what was underneath it. "A beautiful lace bra for a visit to the library, Melanie? How interesting. Did you wear it for us?"
Brad chuckled as he mashed both her breasts in his hands. "Or did you wear it because you knew you'd be fucking yourself in the stacks today?"
Her eyes flew wide in shock.
"Oh, yes, we saw you," Clay said. "You thought you were alone, but we saw you lean back against the shelf, your hand in your panties and your eyes closed. You were beautiful and slutty. That's what convinced us that tonight was the night."
Melanie's belly clenched with humiliation. She thought she'd been alone.
"But why didn't you cum, I wonder?" Brad asked.
Melanie crimsoned and just stared at the far wall. But they weren't done embarrassing her. With another snip of the scissors in the air, Brad said, "This bra just isn't slutty enough, Melanie. Let me see what we can do about that."
He delicately cut out two holes around her nipples.
When he was done, he stepped back and admired his handiwork.
"Very nice. Very slutty," Clayton said, giving his friend his approval. Then Clay pulled a phone from his back pocket, held it up, and before Melanie could blink, he took a picture of her with her nipples exposed and a penis gag in her mouth.
She started to cry. Not because she didn't love it—she did—but because it was still embarrassing. How could it turn her on so much to feel so humiliated? But the strange thing was, crying didn't change how turned on she was and how much she wanted them not to stop. Most guys would freak out at the sight of her tears. They'd misunderstand the release those tears gave her. And truthfully, neither Clayton nor Brad had ever seemed to understand her darker desires before now.
Something had changed though, because Clay said, "Ah, Melanie, what a pretty picture that is. You're pretty when you cry. But something's missing…"
"Her cunt," Brad said in a way that bordered on reverence and contempt.
He pulled his belt off and came toward her. When he tried to pull up her skirt she used up every reserved bit of energy she had to kick him hard in the shin. But he was an athlete, so the kick didn't take him down and the pain only seemed to make him more determined. Unlocking her cuffs, he dragged her down to the ground, where it would be so much easier to fuck her, she knew.
Melanie shouted many things over the gag, but they came out muffled. They were, no doubt, obscenities, curses and various sobs as she kept trying to kick. But their calm demeanor, and their easy camaraderie made it hard for her to keep up the fight.
Especially since she didn't want to fight.
She was soaking wet now, her nipples hard, her body outrageously eager to be shared by two men. Even if they
her discarded ex-boyfriends. Maybe especially because it was them.
"Now isn't this a pretty sight?" Brad asked, yanking up her skirt, bunching it up around her waist and then giving a cruel yank to her panties.
That's when he put his fingers onto the crotch and rubbed them there.
"Oh, Melanie, you not only smell lovely, but you're all sticky. I could, if I wanted, assume that this wetness is from before, when you were masturbating in the stacks like a desperate slut. But I think the truth of it is that
is making you wet, isn't it? Feeling your ass on the cold cement of this stairway, immobilized with a gag in your mouth. Can you feel the ridges of that rubber cock in your mouth Melanie? I know you think it's not real, given the way you're biting down on it, but the truth is that's our cock. We're fucking you with it, and it's going to hold your jaw open until it aches until you learn how to behave."