On the campus

An impartial observer would say it was my fault. I have never been an impartial observer.

I was cutting through the quad with my papers in my right hand and my ballpoint pen in my left frantically making adjustments to my notes while I speed-walked as fast as I could without breaking out into a sprint. I made a tight left turn around a tree when suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a woman just standing there who slammed into me. Luckily I always keep my notes in a binder clip so when I dropped them they didn't go everywhere like a bad lifetime movie. My shirt wasn't so lucky. Whoever just brazenly blocked my path was holding one of those yuppie gringo ice coffees that was little more than sugar water. The flimsy cup cracked when it colidded with me and all of it went over my button-up.

“You bitch!” I shouted. I grabbed my papers off the ground, mostly dry, and stared down at the idiot who just ruined my day. It was a mousy girl. She was couple inches shorter than me. Her look of fear betrayed her youth. “Cup size, now.”

“Uh, uh—” She stammered.

“Cup size, Now! Or does that hole only know how to suck cock?” I repeated, interrupting her.

“34E,” She answered, meekly.

“Don't look at me when I talk to you.” I snap and point down. “Eyes on the ground.”

“Sorr—" She started to say. I cut her off.

“Shut the fuck up. Only speak when I ask. What's your name?” I asked.

“Um, Melody," She said.

“No it isn't,” I said.

“Wha—” She started.

“No it isn't.” I reached out and pulled open her blouse. “Your name is Whore. Now say it.”

“My name is Whore,” She said.

“Never call yourself Melody again. Repeat it.” I ordered.

“My name is Whore.” She repeated.

“Good.” I slapped her face.

“Ow!” She looked up at me.

“I'm sorry, did I ask you a question Whore?” I **** her head back down. “Eyes on the ground. If you speak out of turn again I'll drag you around town nude by your tits. Now say ‘sorry, Mistress’” I tell her.

“Sorry, Mistress” She said.

“Good.” I slapped her again.

“‘Sorry I’m such a dumb slut,’” I said.

“Sorry I'm such a dumb slut” She repeated.

“Do you know why you're such a dumb slut Whore?” I asked.

“Because I spilled coffee all over you?” She tried to answer.

“Sigh” I slapped her again. Hard. Then slapped her other cheek harder. She stumbled but caught herself. “Nooo.” I grab her nipples from under the bra and pull her in. “It's because of these. Do you know what these are?”

“My tits, Mistress?” She winced through the pain.

“No.” I squeezed the nipples as hard as I could. Her mouth opened to cry out but she thought better of it and stopped herself. “These are your brains. They do your thinking. So think real hard, what's different about them?”

“Um,” she sniffles back a tear. “They're on my chest, Mistress?”

“True,” I pulled her tits out of her bra and dragged her by them to me until her chest was against mine. She tried to look away. She was learning. “But wrong answer.”

I squeezed her nipples again. She winced again.

“I shouldn't expect you to know. You have tits for brains. It's that they're fatty. They’re nothing but sacks of fat for babies. Do you have babies, Whore?” I asked.

“No,” She said thru the pain.

“So they're useless. Your brain is useless. Say your brain is useless.” I said.

“My brain is useless—” I squeezed again. “Ahh! My brain is useless Mistress! My brain is useless Mistress!”

“Correct. You have fat for brains. So what are you doing at college if your brain is useless?” I asked.

“I—” She started to say.

“You're here to get fucked.” I said, not giving her a chance to speak.

“I'm here to get fucked Mistress.” She repeated.

“Good Whore. How many people have you fucked today, Whore?” I asked.

“No one Mistress.” She confessed.

“Tsk tsk tsk. From now on you will fuck one person by noon every day. Three by midnight. Do you know why?” I said.

“Because I'm a whore with a useless brain?” She was fishing for an answer.

“Because you're a whore with a useless brain. Now strip out your clothes and give me your belongings.” I let her go and she backed away quickly. She pulled off her backpack and ruined shirt, stepped out her heels, and pulled down her pants and underwear in one motion before taking off her bra. She handed me the backpack and the contents of her pockets.

I took out her student ID from her wallet and looked at it.

“That's strange. Wrong name. Who's Melody?” I threw the ID like a Frisbee into the trees. “Go find your fucks. I don't care how. But be here at sundown, just like this. You need to be punished for making me late explaining simple truths to the dull.” I grabbed her stuff in one hand and walked away, slapping her ass as I passed her. I herd crying as I left.