It had started as a simple online flirtation, to help her escape the pressures of college. To let loose, but safely, in the privacy of her dorm room as her roommate partied. Letting men tell her what to do, how to fuck herself with her vibrator, to make her be a dirty little whore for them. And it was exciting. At first, when they told her to slap or choke herself, she had just pretended to, of course. But one day, she tried it and found the rush intoxicating. It felt good. And so, the spiral started.

Still, she was focused on school, only delving into the darkness online when her roommate was gone or out, behaving the rest of the time. She briefly thought about going to parties with her, letting loose in person, but the guys there did nothing for her. It was the dark, depraved daddies, the mean older men that brought out something primal from within her. That took her embers of womanhood and turned them into a raging forest fire of need. And then, she met Steve.

He was like most of the other mean men, but there was some way he wrote to her, some way of using words, that wormed his way into her mind, her dreams, even in her classes. Where before she mostly played with randoms, now she spoke with him, again and again. He taunted her in class, telling her to grind her thighs together. And she did. He told her to go to the women’s bathroom and masturbate like the whore she was. And she did. He had her slap her face, tits, and pussy until they hurt and were red. And she did. And then, he asked for pictures.

At first, it was just pics of her body, slim and sleek, but with a full chest. She did, parting her lips, spreading her cheeks, and holding her breasts. That gave her an electric thrill and then, of course, he wanted more. In public places, hiking up her dress or pulling out her tits, taking pictures for him to prove that she was a good girl, to keep his attention. Sometimes he demanded more, and if she didn’t do it, he wouldn’t respond for days. She cried herself to sleep those nights, aching for his approval. And then, she headed to the bathroom to take the pictures he demanded, of her licking the dirty toilet. Degraded and desperate for his approval, he started talking to her again.

Her face was no longer obscured in anything she sent him and he knew her name. But his demands kept increasing. A week went by before she finally broke and sucked a guy off at a party, recording it all for him. Telling the man to spit on her. And yet, Steve was right. She was soaked the entire time and when he later told her to slap and pinch her clit, she did so eagerly, happy to hear from him again. When he asked for her number, she didn’t even hesitate. She wanted to hear him, needed his validation, craved his acceptance, and needed to hear that she was a good girl from him. It was all that mattered.

He would call and text her regularly during her classes, demanding that she touch herself. Sometimes her classmates near her noticed her actions, reacting with shock or smiles. More blowjobs and more frat parties, always recording herself for Steve. She cried as she recorded a guy pissing on her, dropping so low that her body shook. And yet, she came as he told her what a cunt she was, that he was the only person who could love such a piece of shit and she knew it in her bones that it was true. She came so hard, slapping her face again and again on video for him. She loved him and told him as much. And so, he was ready to meet her.

She waited for him eagerly at the store, dressed as he had requested of her. A purple two-piece bikini, with a crop top and miniskirt over them, and some heels she could barely walk in them. She got glances and hit on several times waiting for him, as the appointed time came and then passed. She grew more and more anxious, waiting for over an hour. A cop came by and even accused her of solicitation, which made her cry, and only then did he believe her innocence and leave her alone. After two hours Steve finally pulled up, and she almost started crying again in joy. She asked him why he was late and he told her she was stupid, that they were always supposed to meet at this time. She frowned, sure she had gotten the time right, but he was probably right. She was wrong about a lot of stuff lately. But here he was, maybe 10 years older than she had thought he was, but still attractive. He told her to drive and she did, getting in his car. He told her to drive to a park as he looked through her purse. She frowned at that but focused on driving.