#09

I"ve heard people saysex is just a human activity that"s as natural as breathing and sleeping. Now I know for sure it isn"t true. Sex can and will rock your world if it"s with the right person...or with the Devil, in my case.

To say I"m in a daze as I put on another new dress would be the understatement of the year. Just feeling its soft fabric press against my skin is an agonizing reminder of the Devil"s words. Everything I"m wearing belongs to him, and after last night...a part of me has also become his, permanently.

I"ve never been the head-turning type, but it seems as if more guys are looking my way the moment I step out of my dorm. Is last night also to blame for this? Do men instinctively know when a girl"s pussy has finally had its first taste of release?

The more I try not to think of the Devil, the more I remember how his voice, even when it"s disguised, was more than enough to make my pussy tingle.

Is that even normal?

Or am I just one of those hypersensitive types who can cum at the slightest simulation?

I"m still stunned at what I"ve allowed to happen, and when I start thinking about how the Devil will make sure it happens again and again—-

"Found ya!"

Paola comes out of nowhere as she throws her arms around me from behind, and I pretend to stagger at her weight.

"I"m not that heavy," Paola says huffily.

"I know." I swiftly shove all thoughts of last night out of my mind and paste a smile on my lips. "I just wanted you off me."

Paola looks at me closely. "I gotta say...you look amazingly unbothered even with Tara painting a huge target on your back, and everyone convinced you"ve got a sugar daddy bankrolling you."

Crap.

I"ve been so caught up fantasizing fretting about sex with the Devil that I actually forgot how certain circumstances have made me go from nonexistent to notorious in less than 24 hours.

"Are you sure you"re alright?" my friend asks in a sober tone.

"I"m sure this will all blow over in a day or two," I answer determinedly, "and everyone will forget about me by then."

Paola looks relieved to hear this, and I"m glad one of us is buying the lie since no, I"m not actually alright.

At all.

Aside from my newfound notoriety and Tara likely plotting my demise this very minute, I"m also worried about how close I am to emptying my savings account since I still haven"t found a job the Devil considers "safe", and then there"s my parents asking me to visit them again, and me needing to come up with an excuse to say "no" because I don"t want to risk being around them until my mess is all sorted out.

Phew.

To say I have a lot on my plate is an exaggeration, but as horrible as this is to admit, last night is what bothers me the most.

How can you let that happen, Sheena?

I still can"t believe I was so out of my mind with need that the Devil was able to make me cum.

Devil!

Me!

Cum!

The words pop repeatedly in my mind like gunshots while Paola and I head to class, and my friend looks at me in amused surprise when I start slamming my head against my desk as soon as I"m seated.

"Uh...what are you doing?"

I straighten up with a glum sigh. "Just trying to knock some sense into me—-"

Paola chokes back a laugh.

"But I don"t think it"s effective."

Our Lit professor enters the room just as my phone starts ringing, and all eyes are on me as I hurriedly go through my dress"s pockets for my ear buds. I can"t even remember if I brought them with me—-

"Feel free to leave the class and answer your phone," Professor Chant says politely.

"I"m so sorry, Professor, I just—-"

The older woman points to the door. "I insist."

Crap, crap, crap.

I hear other students snicker as I leave the room, and I want to kick myself in the head when I actually do find my ear buds when it"s already too late.

Why am I so unlucky?

I plug my ears and walk to the other end of the hallway before answering the Devil"s call. "You had me kicked out of class—-"

I had.

"You knew I"d still be—-" I break off when the implication of his answer really sinks in. "What do you mean you had?"

I asked your professor for a favor, and he was kind enough to grant it.

Now I"m not sure whether to feel impressed or terrified. How is it that my own Lit professor owes him a favor as well?

Where are you right now?

"Uh, next to the restroom—-"

Perfect.

Go in, please.

I"m dying to say no, but the word still hasn"t crossed my lips even as the restroom door swings shut behind me.

You"re so spineless pragmatic, Sheena.

The Devil tells me to get to the last cubicle, and paranoia has me making sure the other stalls are empty before doing as he"s asked. I just have this feeling that whatever reason he has for wanting me to be here, it"s likely going to get me in trouble—-

Now...tell me what you"re wearing.

And I"m right.

"I don"t think I can—-"

Can"t or won"t?

"What if someone comes in and hears me—-"

Then would you rather show me instead?

Aaaargh.

"No, that"s not—-"

It"s alright, Sheena.

Anything to make you comfortable.

Why is the Devil so good at getting the last word?

Accept the invitation, please.

Polite as always, the Devil is, but...he has to know that manners won"t change the fact he"s forcing me to do things against my will. Right? I mean, I can say "defecate" instead of "shit", but it will still be the same poopy synonym, you know?

Is there a reason for the delay?

Crap.

I hurriedly click "Yes", and my phone"s front camera gets to work.

You look incredibly beautiful in that dress.

Don"t you dare take pleasure in that compliment, Sheena!

Don"t you dare!

But now I"m thinking I might have made the wrong choice in buying it.

My brows furrow, and I ask uncertainly, "What"s wrong with it?"

That dress follows every curve of your body.

Every fucking curve, Sheena.

Oh God.

Hearing him drop the F-bomb flips some invisible switch inside of my body, and my mood swings from confused to aroused in a heartbeat.

Have I always been this perverted or has the Devil corrupted me for good?

Do you know what that means?

"I..."

That dress will have every boy on campus staring at you.

And it has, hasn"t it?

I start to say no...until I remember how it did seem to me this morning that more guys were looking my way.

One look at that dress will drive a man out of his mind.

He won"t be able to stop thinking about it.

About you.

And whether those tits of yours are just the right size for his hands to swallow.

Oh God.

I almost wish I"ve covered my ears the moment the Devil started speaking. The luridness of his words has madness slowly taking over my body again, and it"s all I can do not to writhe and moan.

Remember where you are, Sheena!

Did the thought of having men fantasize about your tits turn you on?

"N-no—-"

Don"t lie to me.

I look at the phone helplessly, and the expression on my own face is mortifying. "You already know," I choke out.

Then say it.

I want you to look at the camera and imagine the Devil staring at you as you say the words.

Just thinking about what he wants me to do has me squeezing my legs closed together. "Please..." What if someone suddenly walks in and hear me say—-

Having other men fantasizing about my tits turns me on.

Oh God, oh God.

Say it.

My dazed gaze focuses on the phone, and it feels like I"m staring at someone else - a girl whose tits are heaving under her dress and whose lips are trembling as they part open, and the words slowly come tumbling out.

"Having other men..."

Oh God, am I really saying this?

"Fantasizing about my tits..."

I can"t stop writhing as I hear myself say something so vulgar.

"Turns me on..."

And there"s no denying it now.

I am turned on, more so than ever—-

Don"t you feel much better now that you"ve heard yourself admit the truth?

I look at my face on the phone again, and this time all I see is a girl who no longer cares about other people walking in and hearing what other naughty things she might end up saying...because she"s already completely surrendered herself to the Devil.

The thought makes me want to cry out, but I end up covering my mouth instead because...

You"re no longer alone, aren"t you?

All I can do is silently shake my head while pleading the Devil with my eyes. Please, please, please don"t make it harder than it already is.

It"s a pity I"m not there with you.

I"d love to see your face up close and watch you struggle not to make any noise while I tear your dress off.

I can feel myself getting unbelievably wet and swollen at the sinful lure of his words, and my mind seems to have completely shut down since the thought of the Devil tearing my dress off only makes me feel more thrilled than terrified.

Push your dress up to the waist, please.

I barely manage to swallow my gasp. Have I really heard him right?

I want to see what panties you"re wearing.

I"ve just reached for my dress when I hear the restroom door swing open, and a couple of girls come walking in.

God, oh God.

They"re talking and laughing like they plan to be here for hours, and yet here I am doing the Devil"s oh-so-dirty work as my trembling hands eventually find their way to my dress, and my heart pounds harder and harder against my chest as I push my dress all the way up to my waist.

Ah.

I think I really have lost my mind. That sound he just made isn"t pleasant at all, so why did hearing it make my breasts swell even more?

Sheer red lace?

You do love to surprise me, don"t you?

Did you choose them with me in mind?

I want to say no, but I can"t...because I no longer know the truth. Red has never been my color, so perhaps the Devil is right? Have I subconsciously chosen to wear this because I knew there was a chance he"d end up wanting to see it—-

Take them off.

Oh my God, say no, Sheena!

Slowly.

But instead I find myself struggling not to make any noise as I step out of them...and slowly, too, just like the Devil asked.

Very good.

It feels all too surreal and agonizingly lewd to have cool air touching the bare folds of my pussy...while the girls outside my cubicle are talking about their homework for Physics and the latest episode of Wednesday.

Now open your legs wide...

I hear one of the girls says she"s going to pee—-

And show me your cunt.

—-and I feel like I"ve fallen into a rabbithole dripping of lust as I obey the Devil"s command. I part my legs open, and let the Devil"s gaze feast on my cunt while another girl enters the cubicle next to mine.

You"re dripping wet, Sheena.

The Devil"s words coincide with the sound of the other girl peeing, but instead of feeling disgusted or appalled, all I can think about at that moment is how there"s only the flimsiest of dividers separating the other girl and me.

I can tell that you"re worried about getting caught...

But such a prospect also turns you on.

Doesn"t it?

I shake my head, but the Devil only laughs at this.

There"s no point lying.

Not with my phone zoomed in on your sweet little cunt.

Did he just say he has his phone...zoomed in?

On my pussy?

How about I give you a choice?

Is that his new way of saying he wants to play another game that I"m likely bound to lose?

You can choose to touch yourself while I watch...

Or you can simply end the call and step out of the cubicle.

My eyes widen.

That"s it?

There isn"t a catch.

If that really is the truth, then can I really go just like that?

Now...choose.

There"s only one thing that any self-respecting woman should do at this point.

Right?

But the problem is...

Self-respect is the last thing on my mind when I"m feeling like this, and as my pussy throbs harder and harder with every second that passes, things like logic and morals gradually cease to matter, and all that I have left is...desire.

I want this, oh God.

I want the Devil.

I want him to keep making me do terribly wicked things like touching myself in a public restroom while there"s a girl in the cubicle next to mine, and God, oh God, oh, oh, oh—-

My entire body buckles as I start playing with my clit, and I can only feel helpless and mesmerized and all the more aroused as my own face stares back at me from my phone.

I look like the Devil"s slut with my lips parted open like that, and I hear the Devil release a low, growling sound as I start rubbing my clit just a little faster and harder.

Open your legs wider.

Make your clit pop out so that every flick of your finger will make you want to scream.

The utter wickedness of what he"s asking nearly makes me cry out, but when I do as he says and force my legs to open wider—-

Oh God!

My clit pops out like he says it would, and even though I manage to keep myself from making any noise, a jolt of tortuous pleasure strikes my flesh at the first flick of my fingers, and I accidentally lose hold of my phone.

Thud!

The other girls gasp at the sound of my cellphone hitting the floor, and I hastily scramble to pick it up.

Don"t stop touching yourself.

I stare at my phone in horror. Seriously?

You heard me.

"Is someone here?" one of the other girl asks.

Keep your eyes on this phone.

"It"s the stall next to Marie"s," I hear another girl whisper.

And no matter what—-

"Oh my God, I know those shoes."

Keep playing with your clit until you make yourself cum.

My emotions are a complete mess, and my body even more so when I reach for my clit and start playing with it even as the other girls outside my cubicle start whispering among themselves.

I"m more dismayed than surprised when I hear my name pop out, but it"s as if I"m trapped in a cage of my own making, and I just can"t seem to stop touching myself.

I know it"s only a matter of time before one of them tries to take a peek, but my fingers are still furiously rubbing my clit like having a climax is my only goal in life.

Imagine it"s the Devil touching you.

If it were my fingers on your clit...

How do you think I"d play with it?

The answer to this comes to me hard and fast, just like how I imagine he"d try to make me cum. If it were the Devil rubbing my clit, he"d know I"d want him to be gentle and careful, and that"s why he"d be the opposite.

He"s going to be rough.

Forceful.

Dominant.

And just when I try to imitate how I imagine the Devil would play with my clit—-

That"s also the moment I see a pair of hands curling over the top of the door.

Oh God!

Don"t you dare fucking stop.

My fingers continue wreaking havoc over my clit even as a marriage of fear and lust tears through me when I hear the other girls giggle.

It"s only a matter of time before I get caught, only a matter of time when others will see for themselves how the Devil"s turned me into a slut—-

God, oh God, oh God!

Thunderous bolts of pleasure stab my pussy as I start to cum, but none of the girls sees me shatter...since the fire alarm just so happens to go out at the same time.

The girls gasp as they hurry out of the restroom, and no one is around by the time I completely break down, and moan after moan slips out of my throat as sticky, creamy cum gushes out of my pussy.

Oh God, when is this going to end?

I"m just cumming and cumming and cumming, and I cum harder than ever when I hear the Devil say he wants me to leave my panties behind before I leave.