Goonette Roommate
Copyright© 2025 by Shad0wgoone
Chapter 8: A New Kind of Healing
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 8: A New Kind of Healing - Two college age women move out of the dorms and live off campus together. Things slowly escalate as one roommate slowly comes out as a completely porn addicted goonette
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Coercion Mind Control Reluctant Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Fiction Restart School Tear Jerker Interracial Black Female White Female Exhibitionism Masturbation Squirting Voyeurism Nudism AI Generated
“Let’s go to the living room. Come sit on the couch and rub with me, †Michelle said softly. “Maybe we can find a genre you like.â€
I didn’t speak. I just obeyed. With my hand still on my pussy, I stood and walked to the living room. I’ve accepted my fate. I’ll learn her ways. It’s the only path forward now.
I sat, still trembling, still crying. My fingers never left my pussy. It was soaked, audibly wet. I hated myself for not stopping, but stopping felt worse.
Michelle pulled out her laptop and started scrolling.
As expected, her collection was massive. Folder after folder of every niche imaginable—fantasy, gentle, rough, surreal, femdom, edging, JOI, cartoons, POV, cosplay. She knew exactly what she was doing.
She turned the screen toward me as we flipped through each one.
I shook my head. “No.†Again. “No.†Again. “No.â€
She kept going, patient and calm. She started touching herself—one hand on her pussy, the other expertly working the mouse, switching genres in her vast library of beautiful filth.
Then she opened the most incredible folder.
Black Women. No men. No hard fucking. No degradation. Just presence. Power. Ownership.
“These are from Shad0wgoone, †she said, smiling. “I love his work. Well, it’s not just ‘his’ work. He writes captions based on these beautiful women. They help me feel seen. His words unlocked something deep inside me. Maybe he can help you too. It’s not always about sex—it’s about reverence. So I built a little corner in my collection based on their curations.â€
The women filled the screen. Their skin shimmered. Their eyes burned. Their bodies weren’t paraded—they commanded. These weren’t submissive porn stars performing. These were queens in control of their space, their sensuality, their truth.
I stared.
I had never really looked at Black women like this.
I grew up in a white town with basic white friends. We lived in a city that wasn’t exactly diverse. I never had to think about it. But now? My eyes couldn’t leave the screen.
The skin tones. The curves. The expressions. The boldness.
Michelle watched me intently. Her fingers slowed. Her lips curled into something between awe and amusement.
“I think you found your flavor, †she whispered.