But what to do about Cara? She’d always hated her, after all. But now, knowing the girl was just acting out of the same place of feeling threatened and alienated that she was… should she show mercy, give the bitch a little thrill? They had more in common than she’d thought, after all. Should she take pity on her, let her off easy?
Ashley knew it was the right thing to do. Cara had just been doing her job, and acted out against a girl she felt threatened by. She deserved Ashley’s forgiveness.
Fuck that.
The first slap across Cara’s naked ass was a high-pitched whip-crack of a sound that echoed through the stacks of the library. Cara cried out in a little surprise and a lot of pain, gripping the chair-back tightly.
“Shhhhhhhh!” came the admonition of Mrs. Namasuro from the nearby check-out desk. Ashley didn’t care. DJ began drilling her needful pussy, starting slowly, but as Ashley smacked and smacked Cara’s firm naked ass, he picked up speed as if each spanking was a spur in his flank.
Cara made an effort to comply with her supervisor’s rebuke, but the stings came too fast, too hard, and soon the library was flooded with the moans of man and women crying out for their own reasons. With the domed ceilings echoing the cries around, even Ashley wasn’t always sure where her blissful cries ended and Cara’s piteous wails began.
Even with the distraction of spanking her erstwhile colleague like the petulant brat she was, it was as good or better than Ashley had imagined. DJ soon had had his fun and released his load into her, then collapsed beside her on the table, joining her as she pantied and laughed in elation.
Cara just slumped forward, relieved to be ignored and afraid to try sitting down.
Around them, life in the library went on. IT Dave helped an elderly man figure out how to log on to a computer; minimum-wage employees grudgingly restored books to their proper places on shelves; Mrs. Namasuro glared contemptuously at Cara and Ashley for violating the sanctity of her chapel. Patrons walked by without batting an eyelash at the three nude people on and around it.
DJ smiled broadly, still coming down from his orgasmic high, and Ashley rolled over and draped a leg over him, snuggling up against his sweaty body with her own. He hadn’t been a great lover—not bad, but nothing to write home about. He wasn’t the best-looking guy she’d ever been with, and while his cock was more than adequate, he didn’t have a career in porn ahead of him.
But with him at her side, she could do this every day. And more.
Hell, if she could keep DJ around, what couldn’t she do?
Chapter Two
DJ returned to the dorm after the incident at the library, his mind restless. Ashley came with, naturally—she didn’t have a shirt, after all, and without him around to make excuses for her, she’d have had a hell of a time. It had taken some prodding, getting her to leave the library; evidently she had more than a few unredressed grievances with her former employer and co-workers. She’d wanted to trash that old Asian woman’s office, knock over more shelves, and that girl Cara…
She’d been lucky to get off as lightly as she did. Ashley had shredded the girl’s clothes before he could stop her (the ones that hadn’t already been absconded with by library patrons after she’d initially tossed them away into the crowd), and between her nudity, her thoroughly beaten rear-end, and the clear sense of shame she’d felt, Ashley still hadn’t been satisfied. Pity had made him all but drag Ashley out before she enacted a few more petty spites, beginning with a threat to hack off the girl’s hair with a pair of scissors.
Women, though DJ ruefully.
She’d been grateful, after the fact—very much so. All of the girls he’d been with had more or less ignored him after the deed was done. None had reached out to him, expressed gratitude, asked for his number, nothing. Jody had been eager for a little more, but that was just teenage hormones, he was pretty sure. The others—that stripper Kelsey, Emily, Brianne, Lauren, Morgan, the cheerleaders—had all been perfectly content to watch him walk away after.
Well, there was Brittney. She seemed to harbor some affection for him, maybe. DJ wasn’t stupid; he’d taken Intro to Psych and gotten his RA training in counseling (though a fat lot of good it had done in his efforts with Cara and Ashley). It was obvious Brittney had some experience with abusive men, and that made her more malleable to his pressuring. He didn’t like to think about it; every time he did, he felt guilty and anxious. Still, whatever her issues, she never failed to have that beatific kind smile for him.
He’d dropped off Ashley at their dorm; before she left, they exchanged numbers and she gave him a long, dick-hardening kiss before sauntering away. As he watched her go, he heard guys cat-calling the busty shirtless co-ed once she got a ways away from him, but she didn’t break her gait or otherwise acknowledge them.
Tired from a day of two blowjobs and a threesome, he retreated to his room. The floor was lively, as just about everyone was back from break and friends were happily reconnecting, sharing stories and flitting between rooms. Some of the guys nodded a pleasant acknowledgment to him as he passed; the girls eyed him in a range from wary to curious, probably wondering if they were up for “inspection.” He ignored both groups and sealed himself in, turning up some music to block out the sounds from the hall.
Finally alone, DJ revisited the days events, trying to make sense of them. Before today, it had seemed difficult, almost impossible, for someone to realize the nature of what he could do. He’d had to hammer it home for his friend Derek to acknowledge it, and if anyone else was even aware of it, they’d not revealed it to him.
Ashley, however, had realized it all too easily. She wasn’t immune to it; he was all but sure of that, having deliberately tested it a bit before he let her go. The ease with which she’d acquiesced to leaving Cara alone when he said it was time to go made him pretty sure, but just to double-check, he’d taken the cash out of her purse and tossed it out the car window on the drive home. She hadn’t said a word except a brief sullen look that he recognized too well.
Still, she’d noticed. He’d pushed her, certainly; maybe the explanation was simply that he’d entertained that juvenile dare to have Brittney blow him that caused her to observe and reflect where everyone else half-noticed and tolerated. Still, what repercussions could this have? Once he’d verified its existence, he’d more or less abandoned testing it further, but today, he’d had to wonder all kinds of other things, and once he began, the questions kept coming. He began listing them out, along with observations, on a notepad.
— range?
— Ashley’s shirtlessness = noticed once she left a few dozen feet of me
— thought patterns
— what is going on in others’ heads?
— same for all?
— test: have Brittney keep feelings journal? (will she be honest if she knows I read it? (too dumb to suspect?))
— cause/mechanism/origin?
— probably no way of testing without scientific knowledge I don’t possess :(
— duration?
— will hindsight change perception of events?
— if so, how? (is this dangerous?)
— test: Emily
— noticing:
— how?
— risks?
— test: Derek/Rachael
He pondered on into the night, and finally let himself fall asleep.