Chapter 1
She was so nerdy. In a good way. Ginger hair, freckles, pale skin, very delicate. A really womanly figure with ample hips. Her breasts were nice. She had a little round belly. Klara definitely wasn’t overweight or anything. Although she said she didn’t like her figure. To me she looked perfect. So real, so authentic. I liked to look at her hazel eyes, her mouth that had that distant faint of an ironic smile. I think she wasn’t and maybe she just was not sure of the world and didn’t want to commit to it.
In short: There was something magic about her that no one would have noticed if they didn’t pay close attention.
But to be honest it also took me a while to pick this up.
You wouldn’t notice her at a party, you wouldn’t turn your head when she passed you by. Unless you dedicated her a closer look and then you got to see the most beautiful person in the world.
She was distant and careful, almost remote, as if she tried to stay away and not get too close, not too attached. I never really knew what she was thinking, there was always a bit of a mystery surrounding her.
You would have thought she was submissive or not into these power games at all. You would definitely not have thought that she had any dominant tendencies. But she had. She definitely had!
We met in a business college, and because we were the only two girls in a class full of boys, we immediately stuck together.
We both weren’t lesbian. At least I wasn’t. I mean, I liked girls, to look at them, to smell them, to touch them. But it felt wrong to me to want them. Something wasn’t right about it. Maybe it was simply because I didn’t want to be LGBTQ because it seemed complicated and I didn’t need more complication in my life.
I would have settled with a sweet, sensual, smart, funny, interesting boy. Except, that there weren’t any. They were mostly the opposite of what I was after.
We quickly became friends. Sitting in the back of the classroom, mostly ignoring the BS the boys would pull off. We just vibed with each other, talked, fooled around, cheated in our exams. All that stuff. I quickly became comfortable around her, which is rare.
To be short, we really became BFFs. True best friends. Forever (well hopefully).
It all started when Klara found my erotic smut stories on my iPad.
You know, I like to read porn and get off on it. It’s just my thing. I didn’t think too much about it. I mean not really. For example, that almost all of my porn was girl on girl or that it was about domination and submission. Masturbating to it was just a way to enjoy myself, to cure boredom, to get relief during my period cramps, you know… the usual.
Anyway, one day Klara dug through my shortcuts and found my profile on one of the porn sites.
“Do you really like that stuff?”
“What do you mean?”
“These stories. This… word porn. You like stuff like that?”
I looked at her, a little surprised and unsure. I just couldn’t quite interpret the tone of her voice. Was she just stating, was she mocking me, was she disapproving?
“Slave to the Business woman? Dominated teacher?”
I looked at her. She had the warmest, sexiest hazel eyes. Big and warm and in that moment… ? I didn’t know… enigmatic.
“Naughty, aren’t you?” she said, a smirk on her lips. “Do you really like that stuff?”
I just nodded. What else could I say? It was the truth. I did like it. There’s something thrilling about it. The power, the control, the raw emotion. It’s a turn-on for me.
“Let me read your favorite story,” she demanded. I noticed now. Her voice had shifted slightly. I was quite sure.
She didn’t ask. She demanded. There was a new side to her, one I hadn’t seen before.
“Uh, I don’t know about my favourite.”
“Don’t skimp on me!”
“I don’t!”
“Tell me then!”
All this was going on in the middle of the lesson. The teacher was talking to the class, and we were whispering in the back. But I was a little scared that the rest of the class might here us, as Klara got more forceful in her demands.
“Hang on, I’m thinking!” I whispered.
“Or else…”
That threat came as a surprise, and she didn’t say what she meant. Maybe nothing. But it just hit so hard that she was blackmailing me. I suddenly felt my heart race to these words, my blood pumping to feel them even more. Yes, I wanted her to tell me what to do. To blackmail me. I wanted the things I read in the stories.
I folded immediately and told her:
“’Slave to the rich kids’. Read that! I liked that one.” My voice was a tiny whisper, as if I had admitted defeat.
She looked at me with those magic eyes and started reading. Right there in class.
I fidgeted in my seat. Nervous. Excited. Uncertain. Klara was reading my fantasies.
The story was about a helpless girl who found sexual thrills from being humiliated, shamed and degraded by a bunch of unlikeable rich kids who made the girl undress and crawl and chained her. It was pretty weird, if you thought about it.
I never had. I mean thought about what others would think about these kinks.
I mean it was really fucked up. I wanted to be bullied and made to do things. I craved this.
And now someone knew about my most secret desires. Klara did.
As she silently read the whole story I tried to read her expression. Except that there weren’t any hints. I just couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
The bell rang, and the lesson was over.
I looked at her, but she didn’t say anything. I thought that she might be disappointed or even disgusted.
“What do you think?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. She just left, and I followed.
