• Title: The Test all girls deserves
• Premise: A captured honors student underperforms on where it matters
• Tags: [1 Male, 1 Female] [Non-Consent] [Misogyny] [Humiliation] [Spanking] [Forced Strip] [Male Dominant, Female Submissive] [Oral Sex] [Penis in vagina] [First Person Perspective] [Female Point of View]

I breathe a sigh of relief when I walk out of the lecture hall. It was an hour and a half lecture, tiring and crammed with full of new terms to understand, but the learning will be rewarding nonetheless. I'm Winnie, by the way, I'm a student who is just starting my third year of University in the School of Social Sciences, majoring in Communications and New Media. I think I am already onto a good start. If I can just score a few more As in my current modules, I would be able to hit that 4.5 Grade Point Average that has barely eluded me for the past 4 semesters.

It is a Thursday Night at 8.30pm when the lecture ended, so... Partying time? No, thank you. What about the saying that students from the Arts faculty tend to have the most fun? I'm one of the rare ones who don't I guess. I mean, I don't think I look bad - I was pretty sure a couple of guys from my classes tried to hit on me. I wear a pair of spectacles and my usual attire in a pair of tight jeans and T-shirt allows me from time to time to admire my curves in the mirror. But I prefer my notes about communication theories to notes on which beer on which cup tastes better (Is that what parties are still about nowadays? I don't know). Hell, I can give an almost perfect recall on a recent report I wrote on one of my favourite theories - Cognitive Dissonance.

So much so I am absentmindedly walking into my usual path through the male student residences, deep in thought about how people around me in their own day to day life might face mental disturbances when their behavior doesn't match their beliefs. I am used to taking this path despite all the rumors about it being unsafe for girls at night. Nothing has happened to me so far and there are usually many guys (and a few girls), all fellow students, loitering around the corridor. This time however, the same corridor is dark, completely quiet and no one seems to be around. I suppose the guys are all away for some obligatory games or activities. Makes it even easier as I can cross by without getting any looks - The unspoken rule is that we shouldn't enter an opposite gender's residence to avoid gossiping. A rule which many girls often break for various reasons. But I can assure you mine is purely one of a shortcut path to my bus stop.

I am about to turn a corner where the exit is, when without any warning, the door next to me opens and a callused palm reaches out and grips my mouth, preventing me from crying out in surprise. A knife brandishes before my eyes before it closes in on my throat. A harsh whisper that of a man, goes in my ear straight "Scream once and you are fucking dead bitch!"

And with that I am left petrified in fear as this unknown figure behind me drags me into one of the dorms before closing the door and locking it.

The lights switch on and I am thrown onto a bed, breathing hard.

Still in my stunned state, I stare up at the stranger before me. As far as I can tell from his white shirt and khaki bermudas, he's muscled all over, making an imposing figure. His short black hair adorns a rough looking albeit not ugly face, and he appears to be someone in his mid-thirties - He definitely isn't a student in this dorm, and from my awareness with this place, he isn't the cleaner either. Who is he? I tremble before his presence. This is the first time in my life a stranger attacks me and I do not know what he wants to do with me. I don't have much money with me and he surely finds my books and notes useless.

"No one is around the residence; the guys are having night campus activities until 10.30pm. So don't bother screaming, and if you do, I make sure you will have something else to scream about."

"Surely pretty ladies surely don't like getting their cheeks slashed for misbehaving!" He threatens as he caresses the flat blade of his knife against my face, making me gulp.

"Why are you walking here?"

"Wh... Who are you? What do you want?" I stammer back.

"I have little patience for smart-aleck girls answering a question with another question," and following his retort, he grabs my t-shirt roughly and pulls at it, causing a slight ripping sound, pulling at my skin and making me scream briefly from the pain and shock of his audacity.

He stare at me intensely, gripping my shoulders and shakes me hard, making me whimper at his considerable strength and power. There's no way I can fight back.

"What did I tell you cunt? Scream and you are dead meat!"

I shut my mouth quickly. I must remind myself to behave else I suffer the consequences from this powerful man.

"Once again, what is your name and why are you here?"

"I am Winnie, I am going home after my lessons."

"Oh wow, so studious. How good are your grades? What is your GPA?"

"4.45."

"Wow, you think you are good huh?" And with that question, I nod apprehensively, not sure how to respond in a way that won't piss him off.

"Ah Winnie... You uni-bitches love to think you are too good for us normal guys, so let's do some tests before letting you go."

"First test will be a striptease, second test will be a blowjob, and the final test will be a fuckjob. This should be the only tests women are supposed to do for us men, not your science report crap."

"Excuse me?" I can't believe what I am hearing.

"So as mentioned, first I like to see you take off your clothes," He leisurely sits down on a chair, pulls out his smartphone and starts playing some sexy music. He stares at me intently, expecting me to make my move.

"Fuck you," Is my defiant response. An impetuous response for sure, but I can barely hide that resentment. His complete insolence towards my gender and my intelligence! I might not be a raging passionate feminist, but everything this guy spout from his mouth offends my sensibilities. Am I not worthy of First Class Honors?

"Yeah, that later." His curt response as he stops the music. His hand on my t-shirt again as he pulls me over to his lap, this time, nearly causing it to rip in half and making me wince quietly in pain. He unbuttons my jeans and pulls it partially down. Is he trying to strip me himself? I will resist! But even then I am not ready for his next move.

He bends me over his knee, pulling my panties down just enough to expose my bare ass, and he begin spanking me.

*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* Over and over again, the sounds of his palm striking my bottom reverberate in the room. I bit my lips as I avoid crying out, enduring the pain. No screaming, as he reminded me. However what is worse than that pain is the overwhelming humiliation of being physically treated like this, demeaning my status and robbing me of my independence.

"Fucking bitch, our cuck-enabling country treated you females like princesses! Spoiled, selfish things like you ought to learn something new besides caring about yourself!"

After like a hundred spanks to my now sore ass, he releases me and throws me backwards as I stumble back on my half-down jeans to the bed.

"Will you strip for me now?" He sternly asks, staring straight into my eyes. My tears pouring out, I close my eyes and nod. That sexy music plays from his phone again.

I stand up again, my face looking away as I push the jeans down until they drop down at my feet. I pull my ruined t-shirt up and over my head and toss it aside. He sighs at the sight of young female skin being exposed.

"Yes... Strip naked for me now," Damn, he did want me to go further, but his next words fills me with anxiety, "Strip sexily, look into my eyes and smile for me as you do so."

I take a deep breath and did as he instructed. He chuckles as I flash a smile, one that's probably a comically wide fake smile, and I did my best recalling what actresses do in those softcore porn movies when they undress. I slowly reach to my back to unhook my bra, letting it fall while my fingers return to slowly feel up my toplessness, still keeping my eyes on him. No eye contact: His eyes are rudely staring at my free hanging pair though.

Knowing I have to finish the job and put on a good show, I preen myself before him like as if he's a mirror, and with trembling hands I slide my hands up my thighs before hooking my fingers into my panties and pulling it down. I am now standing, red-faced and completely exposed before him. This is rather disconcerting, but I am smart enough to know what he expects, and thus I resist the temptation to cover myself up. I look up at him meekly and his face is one of clear scorn.

"Hey stupid slut, for claiming to be an A-scorer you still has lots of room to improve on your stripper career! B grade for your first test."

I am no slut but he clearly wants me to be one. I remain silent at his insults, wanting to neither encourage nor enrage him. But after stopping the music, he presses on further.

"So what grade did you get for your striptease test, slut?"

"B"

"What do you need to do in the future?"

"I need to improve." I mutter, my eyes looking down.

"Improve on what, slut?" He barks, his hand suddenly darting out and pinching my nipple.

I cringe before answering with a slightly louder tone.

"I need to improve on my striptease!"

He nods in approval, and my face continues burning with shame.

[TO BE CONTINUED]