Yours Truly (Groveton College)

by Haley Tyler

College-aged girls were my weakness. Everything about them made my knees tremble and my cock hard.

She’d have to stay silent for me. She’d have to pretend like her older, perverted professor wasn’t petting her perfect cunt, helping her come down from that orgasm.

“Yes, Professor Ashford.” Fuck.

Sighing, I scrubbed my hand over my freshly-shaven jaw. First impressions were important, and today I was dressed in my best, looking like the tenured professor they all believed me to be. But it was hard to pretend to be excited for a new year of fresh faces, fresh ideas, fresh girls—I shook myself.

Even after my cock had softened, I’d find something to shove inside her cum-filled cunt and fuck her until she was an incoherent mess.

I scanned the few options, debating which size of cock cage would be the best fit.

The grooves from the cage had embedded themselves into my tender flesh, and it seemed to pulse in time with my heart as I squeezed. Fuck. This felt so good. The relief knowing I didn’t have that thing weighing me down anymore, forcing my cock to stay soft.

"We can keep it our little secret," I murmured, my voice a low rasp. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from the movement. "Just between us." "Just between us," she echoed, her voice as thick with desire as mine. "That's right. A secret." I slid my hand beneath her dress, my fingers wrapping around the warm skin of her inner thigh. "Spread your legs for me." Her eyes widened at my words. "I—I don't know⁠—" "It's okay, little fawn. Just open your legs." As if out of her control, her legs drifted apart, and I slid my hand higher. My fingers brushed along her panties, and I smiled at the wetness soaking through them. "That's a good girl. So wet for me, aren't you? Have you been wet all day?" "Professor—" she whined, and I groaned. Fuck. "Professor Ashford."

"That's it. Tell me we can't do this. Tell me how bad it is that your professor is touching your wet little pussy."

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whimpered. I spread her apart and rested my finger against her swollen clit. "Oh, god. This is so bad. We really shouldn't do this." Dipping lower, I gathered her wetness and dragged it up, circling her clit with it. "You're such a dirty little girl, letting me touch you like this."

"I don't know what to use." "Do you have a hairbrush?" I asked and smiled at her gasp. "Hairbrush?" she repeated, sounding utterly scandalized. "Don't tell me you haven't fucked your hairbrush before? Isn't that a rite of passage for girls?"

A still image of a girl tied to a bed, her hair short and curly, with welts across her massive tits, made me stop. Her arms and ankles were tied to each post of the bed, and a vibrator was pressed firmly against her clit, another one shoved inside her. The floor was dark concrete and stained with who knew what. The mattress was bare, except for a few stains on it as well. It was disgusting and dark, and she looked totally helpless. Precum leaked from my tip as I grabbed the bottle of lube I brought with me from my pocket, then turned back to the TV. The girl looked like my little fawn—so pretty and soft, her body ripe and ready to be ravished. Pressing play, I watched the video fade in. A faceless man with black leather gloves and a plain black t-shirt tied the girls wrists to the iron bedpost. She wiggled around, clearly excited yet nervous to be restrained. My hand ghosted over my cock as I watched him round the bed, tying her down, then jerking on the ropes to make sure no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get free. Finally, he stood just off camera, and she lifted her head to stare at him. “Ready?” he asked, and she nodded, a small whimper leaving her. God, she looked and sounded so much like Winnie. It was almost like I was watching my little fawn in the video instead of this stranger. He attached a contraption around her waist, and she pressed her head back into the mattress, staring up at the ceiling above her. He slid a bulbous vibrator into the stand an...

“Fuck,” I grunted, the pain almost too much. But instead of wanting to stop, the pain only made my abs tighten and cock thicken. I stroked myself faster, watching the man fuck the girl on screen with the dildo. Her body stretched around the fake cock, the wand still strapped to her clit vibrating and making her scream. She tossed her head back and forth, incoherent whines and pleas spilling from her lips.

“Good girls come. Bad girls get fucked in the ass.”

My other hand groped her soft ass cheek until my fingers brushed against the soaked fabric plastered to her cunt. I let my fingertips ghost over her pussy, teasing her little clit before I slid my hand under her panties and gripped them in my fist. Pulling hard, I forced the fabric to bunch together, pressing between her pussy lips and ass cheeks. She whined around my cock, but I jerked my hips up, hitting the back of her throat and silencing her.

I thrusted in time with my hand movements, moving the fabric back and forth to grind against her cunt. She whimpered and whined, rolling and shaking her hips like she was trying to get away from the pleasure. But I knew she wasn’t. If anything, she was really just chasing it, trying to come again like the greedy little slut she was.

“Look how much you love this. You’re making an even bigger mess. You’re dripping all over my car seat. Should I make you lick it clean?”

“Should I fill this needy cunt while you finish sucking me off?” I murmured, my voice low. Her pulse pounded against my thumb, and I nipped at her jaw teasingly. “Tell me, little fawn.” “Yes,” she breathed. “I need something inside me.”

She maneuvered herself into the right position, wrapping her hands around the backs of her knees and pulling them to her chest. Reaching over, I gripped her panties with both hands and ripped them in half, leaving the sopping fabric hanging from her hips. Turning the bottle around, I pressed it against her entrance. It was just a small bottle—nothing she couldn’t take inside her. My cock was bigger than this, and she’d be taking it soon enough.

“Look at your tight little cunt stretching around this bottle,” I muttered, watching as her body opened to accommodate the blunt, thick bottle. “It’s like your body is desperate to be filled and fucked.” “I wish it was you instead,” she said so quietly, I nearly missed it. My eyes snapped to hers, and she rolled her lips between her teeth like she hadn’t meant to say it.

Her fingers turned white around her legs as she pulled them back more. “Does that feel good?” I twisted the bottle slowly, pulling it out before shoving it back in. A moan ripped from her throat as I did it again, harder, fucking her with it how I wanted. She liked it rough, just like me. Perfect girl. I pressed the bottle deeper until it was almost all the way inside her. “Keep that in and come put your mouth back on my cock,” I said, leaning back in the seat. “You’re not stopping until I come down your throat.”

“If you want to breathe, then make me fucking come,”

I felt her hand cup my balls and gently massage them. “Lower. Put your finger in my ass.” I felt her freeze, her muscles stiffening slightly before she dropped her hand between my thighs. I shifted myself, letting her little fingers move between my ass cheeks. She felt around for a moment, letting me use her mouth as I wanted while she pressed against my hole.

“Did you let someone else fuck your greedy cunt tonight?” “I didn’t,” she said again, her hands wrapped around my wrist. Her head was still against the window, like she couldn’t pick it up. “I swear.” Using the taut fabric, I rubbed it against her clit. A soft moan left her, but it wasn’t enough to get the images of some other guy between her legs from my mind. I pulled harder, listening to her panties rip at the force. “Open your legs,” I ordered. She hesitated before she obeyed, widening her legs as far as they would go. Without warning, I brought my hand down, slapping her pussy as hard as I could.

“You’re soaking wet,” I snarled, bringing my face closer to hers and ran my nose along her jaw. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Her breathing was ragged as I pulled on the bunched fabric again, letting it rub against her abused clit.

“Does that feel good, little fawn?” I growled against her ear, my hand still squeezing her throat. My other hand worked faster between her legs, the wet fabric of her panties rubbing against her sensitive clit.

“I’m a greedy whore.” Her words were slurred, nearly to the point of being incoherent, but I understood her clearly. “That’s right,” I growled, taking in her disheveled appearance once more. She really did look perfect like this, her hair messed up and clothes shoved up her thighs, exposing just a bit of her panties. “Now, get out of my car and go home.” Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What?” she breathed, her confusion palpable. “You heard me.” I jerked my chin at her door, resting my hands on the wheel. “Walk home. You fucked someone else tonight. I don’t want you in my bed.” “But—” I tilted my head to the side. “Unless…” She blinked, jolting forward slightly, like she was unable to keep herself from getting closer to me. Like my magnetic pull on her was as strong as hers on me. “Unless? Unless what?” “Unless you’re willing to take your punishment like a good girl.”

“Beg me for it,” I said, rubbing my thick tip through her wetness. “Beg your professor to fuck you.” Her breath hitched as she opened her mouth. “Please, Professor Ashford, will you fuck me?” “Who do you belong to?” I asked, teasing her clit. Drunk or not, I knew the words were hard for her to say. “You,” she finally whispered. “I belong wholly to you.”

“My brother was nineteen, so he became my legal guardian. He’d moved to Austin but had to come back because a therapist told him it would be better for me. I think he’s always resented me for taking away his life.”

“Isn’t it?” I cocked my head to the side, grinning at her. “You fuck your boyfriend every night, then get yourself off to me. If that’s not slutty and pathetic, I don’t know what is.” Confusion flashed over her face. “My boyfriend?” I blinked at her. Shit. Shit. She didn’t know I knew that. Fuck. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, stepping back. “How do you know—” She took a step back, looking warily at me. Dread pooled in my stomach at her words. “Who do you live with?” I asked, and she took another step back. “My…my brother.”

But because she’d just killed him. She got rid of the last person in the world who mattered to her—she had no one left but me.

Everything I’d done for the last few months pushed us to this moment, pushed us together, and forced her to be mine. I wouldn’t feel bad about that. It was cause for celebration, if you asked me. But I couldn’t show that. Not yet. I had to play the part of the mournful boyfriend. I had to make sure she was alright before I let her see my true happiness. How long could I hide it, though? How long could I pretend to be anything other than the monster everyone knew me to be? For her, I could wear this mask a bit longer. I could be what she needed until she was so ingrained in my life, she could never escape, and she’d never see it coming.

That was the paradox of being a predator. We blended in seamlessly, working regular jobs and having loving families. We were trustworthy and kind, not creeps who prowled alleys or parking garages after dark. People would even say things like, "No, not him. He couldn't possibly do something like that." But that was exactly what made us so dangerous—we didn't fit the stereotype. And by the time you realized you were caught in our perfectly crafted trap, it was already too late.

As soon as the soft glow flickered to life, I looked around at the walls, that familiar love and warmth settling in my chest. Doing this, making this place my sanctuary, had been the only thing to keep me sane. I took in the articles taped to the walls, scanning the headlines as I traced the thick black letters with the tip of my finger. Popular Professor Accused of Misconduct with Multiple Students University Administration Faces Backlash Over Handling of Professor-Student Relationships Additional Allegations Surface Against Beloved University Professor Professor Faces Suspension Pending Investigation into Inappropriate Student Relationships I sighed as I traced the black-and-white photo of Emmett, the one that was taken from his old university’s faculty website. He was so handsome—he still is. But something about his time sleeping with his students made him glow from within. He was truly happy. And that was all I ever wanted. I’d changed my schedule a million times until I was in his class, and I’d made sure to show him how much I love reading and writing. That I could be one of those girls for him. That I could make him as happy as he’d made me. I followed the case closely, not for some sick reason, but because when I first saw a photo of Emmett, it was like everything fell into place and the Universe was telling me that he was my soulmate. I knew I had to do anything I could to meet him and, better yet, to make him fall in love with me. I knew he’d be the one to sav...

I took a deep breath, smiling to myself as I moved to the boxes in the corner, taking the lid off the top one. I stared inside at all the contents, grinning at the rubber band laying on top. He thought I didn’t know what he’d used it for, but I’d heard him in the bathroom that day. When I found it in his apartment, I knew I had to have it. Reaching in, I grabbed a shirt I’d seen him wear in one of his photos leaving his old school. It was a dark navy blue that brought out the green in his eyes. It was one of my favorite colors to see him in, but he didn’t wear it much while he was here. Maybe he would when we got to wherever we were going. I shoved things to the side and grabbed the smaller box of photos at the bottom. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I was truly alone, I opened it. I felt my body heat at the sight of the photos, and the only thing I wanted was for Emmett to look at them while he fucked me. I’d gotten access to his computer while he was in class one day and found all of the photos of his old girls on it. I sent them all to myself and printed them so we’d never lose them. I knew he’d be upset if anything ever happened to them. I just needed to figure out a way to save the videos, too. The box was full of everything that belonged to Emmett—things I didn’t think he’d want to forget. I made sure to add my scrapbook of articles and photos of him before closing up the box and turning the light off.

I’d miss this place the most. I stared at the dark room, remembering the late nights I’d spent down here with Emmett, feeling the most loved and cared for I’d ever felt in my life. And he didn’t even know it. But that was the thing about predators. You ...