Please be aware that Slushe.com loads images in the WebP image file format. If you're using a Safari browser older than Safari version 14, you may not be able to load WebP images. Please load Slushe.com in a different browser (e.g. Chrome, FireFox, etc.) to improve your user experience if this is the case.

Bad Girls SSU: It Wasn't Me

Feb 07, 2021

Copyright © Servus Venandi. First published 2016.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


From the Mind of:

Blaire Zu’loris

 

Date:

3 March EY2421 / Orbit K187::191

 

Location:

Her Dirty Dorm Room, Which Must Be Cleaned Before She’s Written Up

 

Weather:

Rain tonight, turning into ice tomorrow

 

Mood:

Sad, Mad, Mostly Sad



Dear Diary,


ROTC got cut short today for another punishment session. Yes, Ginger and Roxie are in trouble again. I don’t even know what they did this time, cuz they were already hogtied on the altar when I finished running like a lunatic across campus. Assistant Dean Orlander commented on my tardiness and nasty flop sweat, but luckily it ended there. You never know what that guy is gonna do or make you do….


Anyway, the event was more of the same. Mostly. Just humiliation this time, no [serious] spanking, so maybe they didn’t do anything major. Every time Ginger and Roxie get cuffed, I think everybody expects them to go away permanently, but they’ve both had multiple “last chances.” Guess I’d know a thing or two about behind-the-scenes family pull, for all that’s worth. Lucky us, right?


The pews were packed as usual, and they called us up in small groups to do whatever we wanted to the poor girls, long as we stayed within the safety rules. As always, participation ranged from timid to psychotic. In my group, Ulana Harx took off Roxie’s gag and tickled her feet until I thought she’d piss herself. Roxie has a wild mouth (gagging her is maybe necessary sometimes, I’m sad to say), but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile or laugh. So it was pretty weird to be standing right there while she howled hilariously and tried in vain to pull her soles away from Ulana’s eager fingers.


While this went on, Kathleen Pendleton stepped in and tried to fucking choke Roxie, and I think she’d have done it if Mr. Orlander didn’t make her stop. Who the hell does something like that? Kathleen’s been on the altar herself a couple of times, so you’d think she’d show some empathy. Maybe she has none!


Also as usual, I wasn’t comfortable. You know I don’t like these disciplinary things, not really, and I try to do just enough to fit into the “timid” end of the spectrum and not draw attention to myself. Today, though, I just….


Damn it. Should I even tell you this?


Look.… I’ve written before how I have a huge crush on Ginger. Part of me hates seeing her punished like she was today, but part of me kinda gets off on it. So I walked in late today, and the first thing I saw was Ginger naked on the altar. Yes, completely fucking nude, except her uniform stockings. That doesn’t happen often. I’ve seen Mr. Orlander strip Roxie before, and she usually doesn’t even seem to care that much. Ginger though, she normally just gets her skirt hiked up for her spankings and stuff, and one time she had to stand topless on the temple steps with her nipples clamped to Roxie’s after they got caught passing out satirical abolitionist-leaning fliers to new students. But I’ve never seen her naked. Even in her arrest footage on the Metanet, she’s topless at most. Daaaaaaamn. That flop sweat I mentioned? Well, if I hadn’t already been drenched from ROTC and my sprint across the grounds, I think I would have broken into one immediately when I saw Ginger O’Brien tied up in her birthday suit.


Excuse me while I step outside for a few breaths of cold Aurora air….


Now here’s where the day takes a weird turn. My group took the stage, and for a while I just hung back with Sally Amsel and let the aggressive bitches do their thing. Then I saw something else about Ginger that I’ve never seen before. She was crying. Not a lot…. Just some shiny water in her eyes, maybe a little desperation in her muffled gag-talk. And she was still angry. God, she gets so angry when she’s being punished. It always makes things worse, and she does it anyway. Sometimes I wish I could be that defiant. Then again, that hasn’t worked out so well for me in the past, and I don’t want to be naked in front of the whole university.


When I saw Ginger on the verge of tears, or at least what I thought were tears, I moved up to the altar. This is so embarrassing, and I don’t know what came over me. I was just thinking that I could gently touch her face, a quick connection to let her know I was with her and that I wouldn’t let anybody hurt her. It was so romantic in my head before I did it…. A touch, my palm on her cheek, her eyes looking at me over that big gag as she understood that I cared.


Fucking stupid. I don’t think I’ve said ten words to Ginger in the whole time she’s been here. Why would she interpret my touch as anything but another asshole trying to fondle her at the Assistant Dean’s command?


Of course, by the time I reached this brilliant conclusion, I had already put my hand on her.


At the exact same fucking moment, Carinda Blume bulled her way up beside me, slipped her hand across the altar, and pinched Ginger’s nipple hard enough to make her squeal. Carinda, laughing her little ass off, then drifted back where Ginger couldn’t see, and so naturally Ginger found only me standing there when she turned to stare down whoever had just assaulted her boob. The eyes that locked on mine were not teary or desperate or understanding. They were pure rage, accompanied by a gagged growl that made me flinch and back off.


Reality was a painful hammer. Ginger thinks I pinched her.


At this very second, whether she’s on a cot in a cell or back in her dorm room, she’s lying there with the “knowledge” that I joined those wild animals and hurt her when she was completely vulnerable.


Do I even dare try to make this right? I’ve got a good record here, way better than I had out in the “real world,” and I don’t want want to mess it up by playing school politics and getting burned. Word has it that Carinda is blowing one of the local campus cops, so saying anything about her to anybody could sideswipe everything I’ve worked for. On the other hand, if I don’t do something to bring out the truth, I might have to worry about Roxie jumping me. She hasn’t been through the ROTC grind that I’m in right now, but she’s lived hard and protects Ginger from bitches and sons-of-bitches like a big sister and mother rolled into one. I wouldn’t want to fight her.


Shit. Talk about plans backfiring….


So yeah, that’s been my day. The fantasy soulmate I’ve hardly spoken to hates me, Kathleen Pendleton might be clinically crazy, and Carinda Blume is a cunt who deserves to have her own naked ass bruised in front of the whole student body.


An ironic wish from me, I know. If anybody ever finds this journal, it’ll be my ass under the crop. Fuck, I don’t even wanna think about it, but I need to say this stuff. With all the indoctrination, obedience training and military stuff, this is like my own little corner of privacy and relative sanity. I don’t want to give it up. Worth the risk, I guess. Or at least I’ll keep telling myself that till I’m dragged out of here in smartcuffs.


Till next time, Diary.

 

Yours truly,


Blaire

Favorite
Share it:
Stats
Views 512
Favourites 2
Likes 3
Comments 0
You must be logged in to post comments. Please login or register.

Do you want to add items to list ?


>