Chapter 1

Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of non-consentual or reluctant sex.

The first day I saw her I had just started my new job as a barista on the university campus. I looked up to see the end of the queue and noticed her right away. She was roughly 5ft 10 with very long, coppery red hair, that real shade of red, not the horrid bottle colour. She had very pale skin and greyish – blue eyes that caught the light as she turned her head, as if looking for somebody she knew but not finding anybody. Her white t-shirt was tight and the curve of her breasts stood out under the shoulder straps of her backpack. I was glad it was summer because she was wearing tight denim cut off’s that showed the shape of her ass perfectly. Her legs were long and toned, I could tell she was a runner from the tight muscles of her calves, not to mention the expensive pale blue and white Nike running shoes. My clit began throbbing as I stared at this girl, I could imagine watching her as she ran. Than she looked up and right at me. Her eyes pierced through me as she looked at me and smiled.

I startled and quickly darted my eyes back down to the line of cups I was meant to be focussed on. Checking her out hadn’t taken me long. My espresso shots were only just finishing pouring out. I continued going through the motions of coffee making, becoming increasingly more distracted and intensely focussed on not looking up.

As I picked up the fourth takeaway cup I heard a soft, accented, feminine voice say “Hi.”

I turned around and she was smiling at me. And her smile was incredible close up, her lips were a gorgeous shape. I wanted to kiss those lips, I wanted to feel my tongue meet hers. Her eyes now seemed a much brighter blue. I figured it was the light.

“Hi.” I returned, smiling.

“I ordered a caramel latte, takeaway. Would it be ready yet?”

Her voice was high and lilting, and I could have sworn she batted her eyes at me as she asked, but I figured it was wishful thinking.

I checked my drink line, picking hers up I said, “A couple minutes, tops.”

“Thanks, you must be new. I haven’t seen you here before, the name’s Alana.”

“Yeah I am, Started last Friday. Charlotte.”

“Explains why I haven’t seen you. Fridays are my quiet days.”

We continued to chat about the weather and such nonsense while I cleared my line of drinks and called them out.

“Well, thanks. It was nice chatting to you,” Alana said as she turned to leave after I’d handed her her latte, “Maybe I’ll see you round campus.”

“One can only hope,” I smiled back.

My cunt tightened as she walked out the door. The sight of her in those cut off shorts burned into my memory, and hours later at home I was thinking of her as I drove myself towards orgasm. But as usual I couldn’t finish. My nipples were so hard they were becoming painful. And I was getting cramp in my fingers. I stopped, increasingly angry that my climax hadn’t come, again. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I just couldn’t finish lately.

A couple months passed and I saw Alana almost every weekday. Even on her supposed quiet Fridays. She would come in and be her usual charming self and chat about her life. I learned her schedule in the first two weeks. I knew she was single, lived at home with her parents, even though she wanted to escape their overbearing gaze, and that she was a Political Science and Mass Communications major in her second year with great grades by the end of the first month. But by the third week of the second month, I had started to follow her around campus. And it was in the library on the fourth week that I realised why I hadn’t been cumming lately.

I had been studying in the library after finishing work. It was roughly 8 at night and the library was getting quiet. I saw her from behind one of the stacks near the back of the library on the ninth floor, I knew it was her favourite place on campus. In the back of the stacks, more privacy and quiet she had said the day before. I was admiring her gorgeous profile while she was writing her Political Science essay. I had planned to see her, casually run into her or something equally as obvious. It was easy to find her since I knew her schedule so well. That, and I’d been watching her run before she hit the showers. That’s when I headed to the library. She studied for roughly four hours a night, Sunday to Friday generally. Alana hardly ever looked up when she writing or studying, intensely focussed on her work. Dedicated, and I found it was easy to watch her as she typed on her laptop with her headphones in. She hadn’t noticed me yet.

She was chewing the end of her green pen as she referred to her course notes. I knew she couldn’t see me from where I was, to the left and behind her. She was facing a panelled window overlooking the campus. I could see her reflection in the glass. The black of the night sky made it easy to see her face.

I had glanced up and searched around, making sure I was alone. Nobody else was on this level but us and total silence reigned on this floor. I put down my copy of Plato’s Republic, I hadn’t really been reading it since I noticed her sit down, fresh and showered from the gym, an hour ago. My own essay had sorely faltered because of it, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way she moved, her hair and the way the light red tendrils escaped from her ponytail to frame her face. My nipples were hard like tiny pebbles. I noticed myself lightly stroking them through my blue shirt. My core was slippery and I burned with need.

Before I realised what I was doing, I had slipped up behind Alana, she couldn’t hear me. Not with her headphones in. Clamping one hand over her mouth, I snaked the other around at the same time, restricting her air flow by crushing her wind pipe so that she passed out after a while of struggling. Then I pulled her under the desks, gagging her using my belt. Strapping it to her wrists behind her back. I leered slightly to myself as I pulled my ‘hunting’ knife out from my combat boot. Slowly I started to cut the buttons from the front of her shirt, the white cotton fabric light under my fingers as I brushed it aside. Touching her pale skin with my hands, running the tip of the knife over her chest, playing with the idea of cutting through the front of her white lace bra, turned me on in a way I’d never felt before. The pure thrill of having total power over her, made me completely hot. It freaked me out, how seriously I wanted to hurt her, but I couldn’t stop. I had wanted release, needed my release for so long. Just as I scratched the first red welt down her chest with my knife, she woke. Groggy, but acutely aware she was gagged and tied up. Her eyes widened in fear, but they weren’t the beautiful blue that I liked. They were a pale grey- blue.

Alana struggled at first, she wasn’t the type to give in without putting up a fight. But the more she struggled against the belt in her mouth and on her hands, the tighter it would get, the more it would hurt. Then she cried, trying to reason with me about how I didn’t really want to do this. Which, of course, didn’t work because I did want it. I wanted it so bad, I couldn’t think of anything else when she was near me. The knife cut easily through the flimsy fabric of her bra, and I ran my hands over her gorgeous breasts, kneading them with my palms before tracing the tip of the knife around her nipples. She stopped struggling when I did that, too scared to move, just in case I slipped.

“I just want to pleasure you Alana, don’t struggle… too much. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt now, would we?”