Chapter 1: An Eventful Night

The changes in my life began at about 11:00 one Friday night in early October. I’d been out - no, not on a date. I don’t do that. A bunch of my friends from the History Club at university had gone to see a movie together. It was a period piece, and not very well done. As I walked home, I was really wishing I hadn’t bothered to go. It seemed like a total waste of an evening.

In hindsight, though, I am so very glad that I did. And this is why.

As I was walking past the front door of the Thistle - one of the pubs just off campus - she stumbled out. Not very tall. Little black dress, little black purse, strappy black heels, and gorgeous red hair. It was obvious that she had had way too much to drink. She could barely put one foot after the other. And she only made it about five feet away from the door before she vomited. Loudly. And copiously.

Now you might be asking just what was so unusual or noteworthy about that. A drunk young woman stumbles out of a bar in a university town and pukes her guts up on the street. Happens at least once every weekend, likely, in front of just about every bar in every university town.

Well, you see, this wasn’t just any drunk young woman. This was Cheryl Roberts. This was the girl of my dreams.

We’d met the year before. She was in my Canadian history course on the lives of the Prime Ministers. I was a first-year history major. She was a second-year business student, and she had to pass one arts course in order to graduate. She was late coming to class on the first day, and the only available seat was beside me. It was one of those classes where everyone just stayed in their seats all term, so we spent the course sitting beside each other.

As the class wore on, we talked, occasionally. History was not her strength. It wasn’t that she was stupid. She just couldn’t understand the basic principles of history. She asked for help on her assignments, and I gave it. Mostly, I just wanted to be near her. And I am sure she knew that, and took advantage of it. I was in love. Or at least, I was in lust. She was in neither. When that first semester ended, and we got our grades, she had a respectable B+ in the course. (I had an A, but that’s neither here nor there.)

I didn’t see her very much in second semester. Her courses were mostly on a different part of the campus from mine. But that didn’t stop me thinking about her. Every night, as I lay in bed stroking my hard cock, it was her face I pictured. When I came, it was her mouth or her cunt that I was feeling wrapped around my cock. Or at least, it was her mouth or her cunt that I was imagining feeling wrapped around my cock. I had no idea what a woman’s mouth or cunt would actually feel like. I was a total virgin. I hadn’t even seen a woman naked, except in magazines and on the internet. And the only thing that had ever been wrapped around my cock was my own hand.

And then one day near the end of the term I ran into her, almost literally, in the hallway. She was chatting with a friend, a gorgeous blonde who was just a bit taller than Cheryl and had a magnificent rack. I hadn’t seen Cheryl in weeks. And when I said hi, she said hi back.

I should have left it there. But I didn’t. Acting on impulse, I blurted out, “Hey, Cheryl, would you like to go out for dinner and a movie with me on the weekend?”

You could have cut through the silence that followed with a knife.

“No, John, I wouldn’t like to do that,” she replied, with a tone of disdain in her voice.

I turned and fled. But I didn’t feel fast enough to get out of earshot before I heard Cheryl and her friend burst into laughter. I didn’t catch all that they said, and that is likely just as well. But I did hear Cheryl say, “As if I’d go on a date with a loser like him when I could go out with a real man instead!”

I was crushed. But I was mostly angry. Girls can say no to guys when they ask them out. That’s totally fine. Turning me down wasn’t the problem. It was the way she did it, and what she said to her friend afterwards, that made me angry.

And while I wasn’t quite as much in love with her after that, I still jacked off thinking about her every night. But now, she was tied up and powerless to resist me as I took revenge on her for being such a bitch. I read every story I could find online where the geeky guy gets back at the gorgeous girl. I read about the guy and his buddy who blackmailed his sister and her best friends into being their sex slaves for the summer. I read about the guys who tricked the cheerleaders into becoming their little sluts. I read about the guy who kidnapped his ex and took her to his cabin in the mountains and chained her to his bed for a week. You get the idea. All through that summer I shot load after load after load of cum out of my cock, thinking it was teaching Cheryl Roberts a lesson. And in my twisted teenage male mind, that bitch desperately needed to learn that lesson!

And now, here she was in front of me, puking her guts up on the sidewalk. No one else was around. She straightened up, stumbled towards me, and headed face-first for the pavement. I reached out my hand and caught her by the arm, and steadied her.