“Shut UP!” Marcy realized she was making a mistake as soon as she said it, but a whole semester’s worth of pent-up frustration and irritation just bubbled out of her mouth and she couldn’t stop it anymore. “God, I am so sick of you telling me how fucking great you are! ‘Oh, I’m so hot.’ ‘Oh, I totally had that guy eating out of my hand.’ ‘Oh, don’t you love how this outfit looks on me?’ ‘Oh, I could have any man I want.’ You are such a vain, stuck-up, self-obsessed…bitch!”
Violet, Marcy’s lab partner for the semester, simply fixed her with those deep blue eyes, tossed back her perfect blonde hair, took a deep, breast-thrusting breath, and said, “Jealous?”
“No!” Yes. Maybe. Marcy knew she didn’t have a body like Violet’s. A little too curvy, a little too thick in some of the wrong places, muddy brown eyes covered by coke-bottle glasses and mousy brown hair that she pulled into a bun to keep it from frizzing. But she was very happy with Chris, and she made Chris very happy, and she didn’t need to have every guy on campus panting after her. “You totally missed the point! It’s not about how good you look, Violet! I know that’s hard for you to accept, but for once, this isn’t about your looks! It’s about your attitude! You’re smug, arrogant, vain–”
“You said that one already.”
“Shut up! Fine, so you look great. Do you really need to remind everyone of that all the time?”
Violet shook her head. “Of course not. Everyone already knows. But if you’ve got it, flaunt it. You’d understand, if you were a little more…” She gestured at herself. “Nothing personal, Marcy. You’re not bad looking or anything, and you’re a bright girl. It’s just that you’re never going to be…” She gestured at herself again.
“Oh, puh-lease! Get over yourself, Violet!” Marcy knew that she was making a scene, that the other patrons of the coffee house where she and Violet had gone for a study session were staring, but it was time and past time to let all this out. “You’re not the hottest thing on two legs, you can’t make any man putty in your hands, you can’t just get whatever you want with your good looks! If you were that hot, why would you need to study with me every week, huh? Why not just flash your tits to the professor and get an instant A?”
“Because,” said Violet, some of the humor in her tone gone, “I happen to take my studies seriously. I love science. That’s why I came to MIT, instead of just some degree factory. I could just seduce the professor and get an A, but that would make my degree just a piece of paper. I don’t want to just be some bimbo getting by on her looks; I’m going to be a spectacular success with both beauty and brains.”
“Arrrgh!” Marcy looked up to the heavens. “Can’t you just tone down the ego for one sentence? Does it always have to be about how great you are, how successful you are, how hot you are? Which you’re totally not, by the way, not nearly as much as you think you are. Just because you can ‘seduce’–” –she made little finger-quotes in the air– “–an MIT student doesn’t mean a whole lot. These guys are probably just so shocked that a girl is showing interest in them that they’ll do anything you say.”
Violet stood up slowly, like a sword being unsheathed. “I can have anyone I want. Putty in my hands, just like you said. You’ll see.” She gathered up her books and walked out, each step a silent declaration of war.
Marcy watched her go, then looked back at the now-silent room. She blushed ferociously. “Next show’s at seven o’clock, folks,” she muttered, putting her face into her hands.
After that, her attempts at studying for mid-terms degenerated considerably. Every time she tried to focus on a paragraph, her mind slid off into Violet. Into wanting to be violent to Violet. How the hell did someone think they were that perfect and fail to notice their gaping character deficiencies in the area of ‘not being a total stuck-up bitch’? After three hours of grinding tiny holes in her notebook with her pencil, and not having absorbed even one word of her textbook, Marcy finally slammed it shut, grabbed her stuff, and headed off to see Chris. She knew that was one person who shared her opinion of Violet; after a semester of listening to her vent about the stuck-up prig, she knew he knew exactly what sort of person Violet was.
She walked the three blocks to his apartment in a slow fume of rage, still remembering every second of the incident in the coffee shop. But it had been building long before that, Marcy thought as she took out her key and unlocked Chris’s door. Violet had been pushing since the day they were assigned together, always reminding Marcy of how great she was, always reminding Marcy of how sexy she was, always saying she could seduce any man, always saying she could have any man she wanted, always talking about how she could–
Marcy stopped dead at the entrance to the bedroom. There was Chris, naked, his eyes three-quarters of the way shut. There was Violet, also naked, her body glistening with sweat, her hair tousled in that perfect “fucked like a porn star” look, her hand slowly and sensuously stroking Chris’s cock. Her eyes lit up with a wicked glow as she looked over at Marcy. “‘Bout time you got here,” she said. “Poor Chris is soooo worked up already…I’d hate to think how bad it would get if we’d had to wait much longer.”
Marcy dropped her book bag. “Chris!” she shouted, her voice practically hoarse with rage. “You fucking–you–goddamnit, Chris, fucking look at me!”
Chris didn’t even respond. His eyelids just kept fluttering, barely open, only the whites showing, as Violet continued her smooth, slow, gentle strokes. She leaned down and briefly darted her tongue across the tip of his cock, and he let out a ragged moan. “Oh, he’s not hearing you, honey. I’ve got him exactly where I want him, in that perfect place right on the edge of orgasm. He’s been there for almost an hour now, so fucking horny, so fucking ready to cum, and I just keep holding him on the edge…it’s total pleasure, Marcy, a whole world of bliss, and I’m the one showing it to him. You’ve never made him feel this good, have you? Never focused all your attention on bathing him in perfect, sensual arousal until that’s all he can even think about? He is…” She licked again, this time circling her tongue around his balls, “putty in my hands.”
“Fine. Fucking fine. You can steal my fucking boyfriend, you fucking bitch. I hope the two of you are really fucking happy together.”
Violet looked down at Chris. “Oh, I didn’t steal him, Marcy. I more sort of…borrowed him. He tried to resist my charms, talked about how happy he was with you; but it’s like I told you, like I kept telling you, I am sex on legs. I can have anyone I want. It’s like a science, really. You think you have control over your body’s desires, but someone like me, someone so hot, someone so sexy, someone who can really find exactly how to get you turned on…” She stroked Chris’s cock a little faster, now, and his breath came in gasps. “I can bypass your mind. I can make your body tell your mind what to do, instead of the other way around. I can seduce anyone, Marcy. More than just seduce. I can get them to do anything. Their desire controls them, and I control their desires. It’s a bit like being a goddess.” She continued working his cock with her hand, and he let out a soft, keening moan. “Chris never stood a chance. When I really turned it on, well…” She gave a final, quick, sudden stroke, and suddenly cum spurted out of Chris’s cock like a fountain, spraying all over the bed, splashing all the way down to his ankles. Marcy had never seen a man cum that hard. “He was putty in my hands.”
Marcy clenched her hands into fists. “Yeah, OK. You proved your point. You can have any man you want. Big fucking deal, big fucking challenge. You gave my boyfriend a handjob, and he forgot all about me. Name me a guy that wouldn’t.”
Violet sat up. A dollop of semen had splattered onto her cheek, and she wiped it off with a single perfect finger, then licked the finger slowly and seductively. Chris didn’t even move. He just lay there on the bed, slumped down, basking in the afterglow. “I didn’t seduce your boyfriend just to prove a point, Marcy.” She stood up and took a deep breath, letting the light glisten off the sheen of sweat on her perfect breasts. “I seduced your boyfriend because I wanted to demonstrate that I can have anyone I want, just like I said.” She walked over to Marcy, and put her left hand on the doorframe right next to Marcy’s head, as if to block the exit.
“Yes,” Marcy said, her voice tight. “I noticed. You want me to admit it? Fine. I’ll admit it. You can have any man you want.”
“Not any man,” Violet said, leaning in close to Marcy’s ear as if to tell her a secret. “Anyone.” She nibbled, just gently, on Marcy’s earlobe. “Man or woman.” She leaned in even closer, pinning Marcy against the wall with her body. “Even if they’re straight.” Her other hand slid possessively around Marcy’s waist. “Even if they just watched me seduce their boyfriend.”
This close, Marcy could smell the scent of sex on the other woman. “No,” she said, her voice hot with anger. “No fucking way. There’s no way you could–” She felt Violet’s hand move from the doorframe to the back of her head, gently stroking her neck. She’d never thought of the back of her neck as an erogenous zone, but feeling those fingers caress it slowly, delicately… “You’re a fucking bitch.”
Violet rubbed her bare nipples against Marcy’s clothed ones, in tiny little Eskimo kisses that left them hard and aching. “But I’m the hottest fucking bitch you’ve ever seen.”
“You just finished cheating on me with my boyfriend!” Marcy knew that wasn’t the right way to put it, that made it sound like Violet and her were the ones in the relationship, but she wasn’t quite sure how to parse it properly and Violet’s other hand was stroking her hip, moving over the swell of her body in a way that seemed far too erotically charged for something that didn’t even touch her pussy…
“And didn’t it get you hot, seeing him cum so hard?” Violet’s hand was in Marcy’s hair now, undoing the bun, getting a tight grip on her hair and steering her just a little with gentle tugs. It didn’t feel painful, just…intense.
“I’m…” Marcy had trouble concentrating as Violet nuzzled her chin. “I’m not a lesbian…”
Violet tightened her grip on Marcy’s hair, and steered her head into a deep, moist, passionate kiss. Her tongue slid into Marcy’s mouth, dueling with Marcy’s own tongue. After what felt like an eternity, Violet pulled her away. “Say that again?” she said, mock innocently.
“I…” Marcy heard herself panting. She felt Violet’s hand move from her hip to her belly button. She didn’t know that a finger circling her belly button would make her pussy get wet, make her panties feel damp and tight and clingy on her pussylips, but Violet did. Violet was playing her body like a piano, just like she said she would. “i’m not a lesbian…” she managed to pant out, but she could feel her resistance weakening. Was this how Chris felt? she wondered. Did he fight her? Thinking about that made her think about Chris as he was when she walked in, so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even notice her; made her think about Chris now, practically short-circuited with bliss. She couldn’t help but picture herself like that, picture the way she’d look soon as Violet overloaded her brain with pleasure, shut it down, made it obey, and god that sounded so hot…
“Everyone’s got someone they’d go gay for, Marcy,” Violet said, unbuckling Marcy’s jeans and letting them fall to the floor. “And really, there’s nobody sexier than me.” She peeled off Marcy’s damp panties. She hadn’t even touched Marcy’s pussy yet, and Marcy was already sopping wet. “Is there, Marcy?”
“…no…” Marcy could hear the needy, plaintive, almost lost sound in her own voice. She felt her body shuddering, her every inch of skin so alive; she never thought that she could be so aroused, and never thought that being this aroused could make her so pliant, but it was true. Violet knew exactly how to melt her brain down into a liquid heat that dripped down her thighs. She needed to cum now, needed it so badly, needed Violet to make it happen. She could already sense that there was nothing she wouldn’t do to get more of Violet’s touches and caresses.
“You need me so badly, don’t you, Marcy?” Violet pulled Marcy to the floor, the two of them tangling together, Violet’s warm flesh pressed against Marcy’s feverish skin. Violet didn’t even bother pulling Marcy’s shirt off; she just pulled it up enough to expose Marcy’s breasts, and pulled Marcy’s bra up to let them free.
“…yes…” Marcy was dimly aware of the mechanical, dreamy quality of her voice, but as Violet finally slid two fingers into Marcy’s pussy, the pleasure sapped away her ability to care. It was like she was being hypnotized with pleasure, hypnotized with caresses, and she knew she couldn’t fight it. Behind them, she saw Chris sitting up on the bed, his dick already rock hard again, his eyes dreamy and vague as no doubt her own whimpering pleasure sent his mind whirling back to memories of his own surrender…
“You’re just putty in my hands, aren’t you, Marcy?” Violet’s words seemed to be so distant now, but at the same time they felt like they were coming from inside Marcy’s own head. She realized that she couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been since Violet had last spoken, that time had lost all its meaning. Had she been lying here for minutes, hours, days? It didn’t matter. Violet’s caresses left her floating in an eternity of pleasure. The fingers in her pussy, the fingers on her breasts, the gentle teasing mouth, they kept her right on the edge of orgasm, drinking in the bliss but aching for more…
“…yes…” Right then, when she gave in, that was what Violet was waiting for. That was when Violet finally let her cum, cum so hard, cum just like Chris came. But it was even better for Marcy, because one orgasm just led to the next, and the next, and the next, and the next, and then she stopped counting, and then she stopped thinking, and then it all just crashed down into blackness as her brain shut down completely.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there in Violet’s arms, but it felt like forever. It was almost a betrayal when Violet untangled herself from Marcy’s warmth and went over to her clothes. “Well,” Violet said, “that was fun. Study session tomorrow, Marcy? Probably not the coffee house this time. We can meet up at McDonald’s.”
“I, wha, where are you going?” Marcy watched as Violet started to dress.
“Out.” Violet held her panties in one hand, and looked down at them speculatively. “It’s a busy Thursday night, and I’m a busy girl.” She shook her head slightly, and tossed the panties aside. Chris lunged for them greedily.
“But…but I thought you might want to…I mean, I’d like to…to do…” Marcy gulped. She never thought she’d say this, not to another woman, definitely not to Violet. “Anything. Anything you want, anything, please…”
Violet gave a tiny chuckle. She probably didn’t mean it to be cruel. “Sorry, got places to be. Don’t get me wrong, it’s like I said earlier, you’re not bad looking, I might give you a tumble again sometime, but…” She pulled on her shirt. “You know. Not tonight.”
“Then why’d you–”
“Enslave you?” Violet shrugged. “I dunno, to prove a point, I guess. Seems kinda petty now, but I was in a bad mood. Anyhow, see you tomorrow.” She pulled on her skirt and headed for the exit.
“Wait!” Marcy practically flung herself prostrate in front of Violet. “Please, just…I’m sorry, Violet. I’m sorry for not understanding how sexy you are, I’m sorry for not understanding how perfect and beautiful you are, please, just let me make it up to you…” She heard Chris beside her, begging to go with Violet wherever she was going, to at least let him come along, even if she was going to leave Marcy behind…part of Marcy felt upset at the betrayal, but she understood. Nothing was as important as Violet was. “Please, just stay, I’ll do anything you ask, you deserve it, you’re so wonderful…” She knew she was babbling, but she didn’t care, she’d given up dignity as she lay there on the ground, kissing Violet’s bare feet and even her fucking toes tasted perfect…
Violet looked down at the pair of them for a long moment. “Oh, alright,” she said, falling back onto the bed and lifting her skirt, spreading her legs to reveal her perfect twat. “I have to admit, you do know how to say exactly what a girl loves to hear.”