Their Straight-A Student

Part One

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 him. 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 really 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 fuck 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 was 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 say 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 should 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.

Because she did 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.