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This is quite different to my usual stuff, but hope you enjoy.
It was late to be in the library. The staff all went home at 5, but the university allowed students access 24 hours a day. That was for the best. There were still a few students sparsely spaced along the long rows of desks on the ground floor. All of them looked tired, and all of them had a coffee in front of them.
Alice Challenor walked past them all. Nobody looked at her as she went by. They all had their own problems, she thought. They were too tired and too stressed and too busy to worry about one more student in for a late-night study session.
Not that she looked that noticeable to begin with. Sure, she could turn heads if she tried, but today she had gone for the opposite effect. She had her brown hair in a half bun with the rest down, and wore grey tracksuit bottoms and an oversized black jumper. Shapeless clothes. Her backpack looked inconspicuous, despite what was in it.
Though there were plenty of empty seats on the ground floor, Alice took none of them. She walked straight to the lift, and took it to the third floor. Ground floor was just study space. First was computer clusters and bookshelves, second was a research space, and third was collaborative study. The elevators opened up onto the third floor presently.
This floor was mostly empty. It seemed almost nobody was willing to work on group projects at 11pm. There were just a couple groups, chatting amongst themselves and looking even more stressed than their downstairs counterpart. That made Alice feel a little less nervous, but she was still glad that she had booked the room. She checked her phone to confirm that she had the room number right.
“Three-two-seven,” she said aloud to herself, committing the number to memory before sliding the phone back into her pocket. She searched for the room, her battered converse shoes clopping dully on the thin green carpet. This building was notoriously maze like, and Alice had never booked out a private study room before. This meant that finding the room she had reserved took almost ten minutes.
Good thing I came early, she thought, as she took her phone out again. Pulling off the red rubber phone case, Alice took her university ID card out from inside it. She held it to the scanner that was next to the door, which flickered green as the electric lock disengaged. This again made her feel a little less nervous: Nobody would be able to get in who she hadn’t listed as part of her study group when she had booked the room.
The room had obviously been designed for studying. As such, it was bare, boring, functional. The door was a fire door. There were six chairs and one rectangular table, with a presentation screen at one end of it. So that the patrons wouldn’t be disturbed as they planned projects together, these rooms were sound-proof. Alice sat on the table and glanced nervously at the door. It was at the other end of the room in the corner, but on the long side wall. As a result, the angle was too shallow for anyone to see this table from outside.
This is ok, she thought. this is private enough. And indeed to every logical part of her brain that was true. The brain is not an entirely logical entity however, and she was acutely aware of how outside her comfort zone this night would take her. The risk was small, but severe. She wrung her hands together. She had already thought this through. All considered, this was her best option.
Alice had always been thought of as very bright. The school she had attended hadn’t been the best, and the culture there was apathetic at best to higher education. She had been different though. She had loved learning and science, and had buried herself in books at every opportunity. She did well on tests. Incredibly well, compared to her classmates. Hers was always the first hand to shoot up in any science class.
When she was seventeen, she had applied to several foundations that gave bursaries to underprivileged kids. After a few disheartening rejections, she finally got the answer she was looking for. If she got into any British university to study a STEM subject, then the Mary Sommerville women in STEM foundation would pick up the bill. Of course, there had been conditions to fill, fine-print and the like. She had assumed that she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that. She silently cursed her arrogance.
Alice could still remember her first day on campus. That feeling. Barely anyone went to university from her school. She was the oldest of five girls, and on her parent’s scant wages they had never had much. But she had done it. She was studying chemical engineering at a Russell group university, all for free! Her sisters weren’t quite as studious as she was, but she knew when they saw her succeed, it would be just the motivation that they needed. The six-figure median graduate wage hadn’t been the reason she had chosen her course, but she would be lying çorum escort if she said it was a complete coincidence.
“And look at you now,” she grumbled to herself, pulling her bag onto her lap and undoing the zip. She had booked the room for two hours instead of the one she was told to, so that she would have time to get ready in here. She had arrived 45 minutes before they were supposed to meet. That seemed silly now. This wouldn’t take her 45 minutes. Most of that time would just be reflecting on how it all went wrong.
The pride she had felt on her first day didn’t last long. There’s something that they don’t tell you at school, because they don’t want to discourage you. Alice thought that they should tell the kids though, be honest with them. Sometimes, hard work isn’t enough. You work and work, and it’ll get you somewhere, but at the end of the day you have to be really smart. Alice had mistaken her studiousness for genius. She caught onto the difference quick at uni.
She studied nights, weekends, every hour she could find. Unlike school though, all the studying in the world would do you no good here if you didn’t understand. And Alice didn’t. Studying felt like she was banging her head against the wall sometimes. She had once thought that maybe doing just that would be a more efficient way to get a headache, while learning nothing.
It was frustrating, receiving bad mark after bad mark. In first year, she had finished with 58%, or a 2:2. The cut-off for a 2:1 was 60%, and if she didn’t get that in second year then her bursary would be withdrawn. She hadn’t even considered that, assuming she would excel at university as she had done at school. So far though, her second-year grades had been even worse than first year. It was just before winter break and Alice had already handed in two papers that had scored in the low 50’s. She was appalled. She was even more appalled when she talked to Sophie about grades.
Sophie was Alice’s first year flatmate, course mate, and only real uni friend. She had struggled similarly in first year, and in the first paper of second year, but on the second paper she had received 80%, as high as Alice had seen anyone get. After days of pestering, Sophie had finally given in, and told her friend her secret.
“You know Peter?” she had said. “Quiet blonde guy, sits in the back. Well, he knew I was struggling and well… you know he’s really smart right? Like really smart. Anyway…” Sophie had given her a look then. “Promise you won’t hate me? I just… he offered to write a paper for me and… well you know. It got me back on track. I can keep on top of it now I’m up to speed.”
It took about an hour to get the whole story from Sophie. Despite her promise, Alice did hate Sophie a bit. That hate was more jealously than she would care to admit. It took her two weeks and six failed paper drafts to crack. She had messaged Peter on Facebook last week. He had offered her a first-rate paper. At a price of course.
Well, it was time to pay up. Alice pulled out the contents of her bag. There was a pair of glossy yellow high heels, and… a costume. Looking at that made Alice feel a little unwell. She had thought it was a joke when Peter had told her that was what she had to wear. But no, he assured her that he was quite serious. At least it was after Halloween. She probably wouldn’t have been able to afford it at inflated seasonal prices.
Alice took a long deep breath. It was shaky with nerves, so she tried to calm herself. She glanced at the door again. The room had no windows. It’s ok, she reassured inwardly. Nobody can see, nobody can hear.
Before she had too much time to think about it, She pulled her shapeless black jumper over her head. What was underneath was anything but shapeless. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, or even a bra. The shape of the costume meant a bra wouldn’t work. As the hem of her jumper came up, she felt her heavy breasts fall free. She blushed despite being alone.
She didn’t like to show off her body. In fact, she actively wore clothes that hid it. Despite her best efforts however, some people still noticed. How could they not? They say some girls are just lucky, and Alice was one of those girls. She had a lean waist, toned stomach, and even gentle V lines. The features of her torso curved upwards gracefully into a full, high set of breasts. She stood at only a few inches over five foot, and yet those breasts were a large handful. Sophie had assumed Alice was joking when she confided in her that she wore a 30E. She did hide them well.
She wasn’t hiding them well now though. Now she had them out in the middle of a university study room. Her breathing became shaky again, so she settled herself. Better get this done, she thought. Be uncovered for as little time as possible. But then she would be in the costume. Would that be much better? She didn’t have time to think about it.
Alice pulled off her tracksuit çukurambar escort bottoms, revealing a scant black thong underneath. The material tented slightly over her lean pronounced hip bones. She was scrambling now, despite something in the back of her brain yelling at her that it was fine, that nobody could get in, nobody could see her. She snatched up the costume and undid the zip in the back. She hastily stepped into it and pulled it up. This felt wrong, to be dressed as her, to do this.
Fumbling behind her back for the zip, Alice eventually pulled it up. She caught her reflection in the darkened screen at the end of the desk.
She had never been a huge fan of Disney. There had been one character who had resonated with her as a little girl though. As luck would have it, that was who she was dressed as now. She was Belle, from beauty and the beast. Except she wasn’t. The yellow dress that Belle had worn had been a long ball gown. This was one of those sexy Halloween costumes that she hated so much. In fact, she had written an article for her school paper when she was sixteen about how they reduced all of women’s roles in society to fetishization. Didn’t stop her from buying it when Peter had sent her the link though.
The dress that she was wearing had off the shoulder straps and a corset like bodice that pushed her bust up a great deal more than she was used to. Below the waist it flared out abruptly into a ruffled yellow and white miniskirt, which came out about a foot around her on all sides. She felt the back of the skirt. It covered her arse with maybe three inches to spare. She hated her arse. Not because it didn’t look good, quite the contrary; She couldn’t hide it like she could her chest. Most of the jokes and wolf whistles were made from behind her.
Dejected, Alice sat on the desk to pull on two long white socks. They came up well past her knees, leaving only a few inches of bare skin between them and the dress. As she pulled on the yellow heels, the look was completed. She stood, and admired herself in the black screen.
Another day, another feminist idol of my childhood sexualised, she thought sardonically. Who would be next? Sexy Marie Curie? Sexy Louisa-May Alcott? They probably already exist. Because that’s the world we live in.
But wasn’t she part of the problem? Here Alice was, proud, smart Alice, whoring herself out as a replacement for intellect. She had to tell herself that the ends justified the means. It would be like Sophie said, she could get back on track, she could get the degree, the job, the money. She could motivate her sisters.
If only they could see me now, she thought, running a hand down the front of her bodice. She sniffed, then checked her phone. 11:30. Half an hour to wait. Alice pulled out a chair, sat, waited.
The door buzzed with the disengaging of an electric lock. The sound caught Alice by surprise, and her heart jumped into her throat. That primal, illogical part of her brain threw all sorts of scenarios at her. it was a cleaner, someone had gone to the wrong room, there was a mistake with the key cards, she had been pranked… None of it was true. As the door swung open, it was Peter who walked in.
Alice felt relieved as he dropped the door behind him. Then it stopped. Someone had caught the door, and it was opening again. Alice scrambled back, looking in vain for a hiding place as the door swung back open, and another boy followed Peter into the room.
“Whoa, whoa,” Peter said, holding his hands up defensively. “Alice, its ok, its ok. This is my friend, Brian. He’s doing his masters thesis at the moment in ChemEng.
Alice looked from Peter, to Brian, and back to Peter again. Uncertainty was etched across her face. After a moment of fearful silence, she managed to speak.
“I-I thought it was just going to be you.”
“Just me?” Peter looked genuinely surprised. “No no no. Alice I have my own work to do, plus I have two other girls to write this paper for. Do you have any idea how much harder each paper is than the last? New ideas, new arguments, new sources.” The look on his face was one of pity. “Alice I’m really sorry you didn’t realise there would be two of us. You said Sophie referred you, I just assumed you knew.”
Alice ran red. She hadn’t told Sophie she would be coming here. She would probably guess when she saw the grades, but there was something about saying it out loud that seemed so hard.
“If you don’t want to go through with it, I completely understand,” Peter said. “As I said on Facebook, we would also take a cash payment of £500.” Brian just stood there, an awkward half grin on his face. Alice thought of home. Of the bedroom she had shared with two sisters. £500 was the moon to her.
“No,” she said, meeker than she wanted to sound. “No, ill do it. it’ll definitely be a 1st though, won’t it?”
This time, it was Brian ankara escort who spoke. “We guarantee at least 75% on all papers. If we couldn’t do it, we would say. Usually it’s a good few percent higher than that though.”
Despite herself, Alice smiled. The smile evaporated soon enough though when she remembered her situation. “So, should we… how do we start?” she asked, feeling all the more awkward for it. Peter answered wordlessly. He stepped forward, leant in, and kissed her. His mouth was hot and wet on hers, and some animal instinct made her put an arm around him and pull him close. Even through all of this, she liked Peter. He was handsome, and had a gentle soft-spokenness to him.
Just as quickly as he had kissed her, he pulled away, and some small part of Alice wanted him back. In an instant, her head was turned and Brian was close. He was pale, and weedy, and not much to look at. This wasn’t about who Alice was attracted to though. When he moved to kiss her, she kissed back. She focused on Peters arm still around her waist as Brian thrust a coarse wet tongue into her mouth.
He pulled away too. Alice was breathing heavily, and her heaving bust was straining against the corset top of her dress.
“Now Alice,” said Peter, his face very close. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we had you book out this study room. Well the answer is simple. Its both public and private at once. This room is soundproof, and nobody can see in. There are however two study groups working out there, or at least there were when we came in. That’s something that we like. Having those oblivious people just outside. Once we get going, we want you to make some noise. Don’t worry, they won’t be able to hear. Can you do that?”
It was strange, but for some reason that last question pricked her pride more than any other part of this had. Could she do that? As though it were hard. As though she were some 58% simpleton. This grade wasn’t being handed to her. she was earning it. She was earning it fair and square, just… not in the conventional way. She had gotten the first year of scholarship with a test. To help with the next, she would have to make some noise. Even if she couldn’t earn it the way she would’ve liked, she would earn it none the less.
“I can do that.” If the edge to her voice had been audible then the boys ignored it.
“Good. and the costume? Well, it was Brian’s turn to pick. Quite a sexy choice though, in my opinion.” And with that, Peter kissed her again. He kissed her back against the table, and she took the que and hopped up, never breaking the kiss. She felt a hand stoke her stomach through the yellow bodice. She felt another caressing the strip of flesh between skirt and sock. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t know who’s was who’s. She imagined they were both Peters.
She was never kissing the same mouth for long. She was swapped back and forth, the warm mouth and the coarse, all the while being stroked. The stroking wasn’t overly intimate; the top of the thigh, the stomach, the back. It was having an effect on her though. She hadn’t been touched much in her life, and the contact and the kissing were making sparks in her stomach as well as other, more primitive reactions.
Alice didn’t know when her hips started their gentle gyration on the desk. All she knew was that they were doing it, moved by some long dormant instinct. They rocked gently, smoothly, like a ship on a calm sea. Still she was kissing, kissing. The hands were becoming more adventurous now. One rose up and took a breast, squeezing gently. Another found where her arse met the desk. A third was edging up against the fabric of the skirt. Maybe they’re all Peter, she thought.
The kissed were getting harder, faster. She was being switched more frequently, and each time she parted from a pair of lips they felt more reluctant to leave her. They were approaching a fever pitch, and she knew that the same thing that was awakening in her was being awakened in these two boys.
Then, almost roughly, a hand came right the way up her skirts and pulled at her thong. She broke her kiss to rest her chin on the boys’ shoulder and opened her eyes. There were four hands down there now, and Alice lifted herself an inch with her hands to allow the thong to be torn away from her. It pulled a garter sock down with it, which was hastily pulled back up.
The shoulder she was on pulled back. It was Peter. He held the black thong.
“These were a bad idea,” he said to Brian.
“We know for next time,” he replied, stepping into Alice, running a hand up her thigh. He found her dripping wet, hot to the touch. His touch, yes even his, sent electricity through her. She groaned despite herself, and then, remembering Peters condescension she moaned long and loud.
“Oh fuck,” said Peter That seemed too much for him. He kissed her hard and passionately, and she reciprocated. All the while, Brian was doing something in between her legs that made her gyrate against the desk all the harder. It was almost spasmodic in its involuntary necessity. The heat and the pleasure both built together in a maelstrom of feeling. Her thighs twitched together, and she felt something large between her legs.
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