My thoughts are consumed by him. In class, my mind drifts to his rough hands, yet soft voice. In the dining hall, I can barely get any food down, because the thought of his return makes me queasy, anxious and excited all at once.

Nighttime is when the longing is the worst, though. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape him.

A week goes by. My room remains cold, empty, and silent. I’m trying to stay out of it as much as possible- but I know that’s futile. He’s going to find me when he wants to. If he ever wants to.

It’s a Wednesday night, as mundane as any other. I can’t find any parties or late-night study sessions to attend. I have to face my room again, at the price of my innocence.

There’s a creak in the hallway. Then footsteps. One, two, three.

I leap out of bed. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll lose interest if I’m alert this time. Maybe, if I get out a scream, he’ll run away. Or get stopped by campus security.

Do I really want that, though?

There’s a knock. My heart stops.

I twist the handle. The door is forced open.

“Hey, is that my top?”

I let out a sigh of relief. It’s just Stella.

“I’m so sorry-“ I say.

“Look, it’s whatever. Just wash it, please?”

I nod. Stella grabs her tote, and walks back out, before I can even close the door behind her.

“You’re not staying tonight?” I ask weakly.

“I’m staying with Matt tonight. You get the place to yourself,” she says, smiling.

We’re not so certain about that.

“Yeah, guess I do,” I add as Stella walks down the hallway without a second glance.

I go to lay down. I know I won’t be getting any sleep, but I figure I might as well rest my head. Soon enough, his words fill my mind. I think about the terms he used for me, and how they made me feel so small. So protected. So tingly. Ironic, when he was the one doing the hurting.

But it felt right, didn’t it?

I’m fills with so much shame. But I can’t help it when I push my fuzzy pyjama bottoms down and shove a pillow between my thighs. My room is so cold, but the memory of him makes me so warm.

I grind slowly. I picture him above me, his mouth in my ear, calling me his little one. His body weight crushing me, and thick member rubbing between my thighs. I clench them, and hug my fuzzy pillow tighter.

How would he feel inside me?

I slowly grind down, imagining him slipping inside my tight hole. In this fantasy of mine, he makes love to me sweetly and gently, even though I know that’s not how it would play out in reality. He is not a kind and sensitive man. Maybe he’d cuddle me, though, after he’s done taking what he wants.

I feel my body reaching that heightened state again. I’ve done this a few times since he first touched me, but I always find a way to stop before I reach the edge. It feels almost like…I’m betraying him, if I were to bring myself orgasm. I don’t know why I’m so desperate for the approval of a man who’s instilled so much fear in me.

Maybe tonight I’ll finally do it. Maybe this is how I finally get over him.

I hump faster, feeling myself lose control of my lower body. I’m just acting on instinct, now. Right as I think I’m there, two strong, massive hands grab my waist.

“It’s time, little one.”

I gasp. I try to shift the pillow from my thighs, but his grip forces me to remain in place.

“I’m…sorry, Sir.” I say.

“I explicitly told you I would return. But you couldn’t wait, could you.”

I cover my face with my hands. I feel his hot breath against them.

“You’re a real whore for me, already. Is this what you’ve been doing while I’ve been away? Desperately humping like a bitch in heat?”

I just nod. I can’t find it in me to fight him.

He forces me to sit on his lap, with my back against his chest. I felt so good, the last time I was in this position. I had a feeling this time would be much, much different.

“Clearly, my warning was not enough,” he says, as he forces my legs open. “Remind me. What holes did I say I was going to use?”

“Um…my pussy, Sir?” I ask.

“No, no, little one,” he slaps my face. It burns, but the humiliation of disappointing him stings even more.

“Which holes of yours are mine to use and abuse as I please?”

“All of them, Sir,” I say. “All of them.”

“That’s right,” he chuckles, darkly. “My little whore girl is learning her place.”

I have a feeling tonight is not going to end the way I want it to.