Well, this should be announced.
Read all the tags before continuing. All the characters, including the author (^-_-^) is eighteen or more.
If you aren’t of the legal age in your country, feel free to close this and move on. Because, I definitely won’t poison young minds…
… Other than in my stories xD.
You will see all the bright and dark sides present inside me, and yourself, in my stories.
Every character is fictional, and any and every resemblance to real life is completely coincidental.
And NEVER try to do any stupid sexual things in real life. It not only would destroy yourself, but also your loved one’s lives.
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!!
At first glance, I was like any other pursuer of medicine.
A prim and proper woman wearing scrubs or a white coat, walking through the halls of the famous medical university in the whole of Continental U.S.
To further add originality to this attire, my glasses and the pushed up hair always gave me a look of ‘prodigy of medicine’.
Sure, I deserved that title too. I was at the top of any rooster my university prepared.
My body was toned from years and years of tennis practice, and I was the captain of tennis teams in both middle and high school. That meant that I was the first choice of any professor who wanted to conduct some games to take the pressure off from the shoulders of the young doctors.
More to that, my grades were always ‘off-the-charts’ as they put it.
Adding oil to the fire, my perfect body made every boy I crossed to prance around me. I had C-cups which I thought were the perfect size for a girl, and my workouts kept my legs lean and my ass plump, and my height was of the perfect height; not petite or tall. I even had wide hips, thanks to my mum, which meant that I had the perfect hourglass shape.
That didn’t mean that I was considered any low due to my body, which was always the first hurdle to a woman’s life in a professional line.
In fact, I had proven older professors wrong, when they thought I was just another ‘dumb-whore’ paying her way through medical school. And those words were the same ones out of one of the professors, which I had overheard. Talk about sexist!
I proved them all wrong during my second year, and became the talk of the year by getting a perfect score, which hadn’t occurred in a decade or so.
So, I now and always was portrayed as this prim and perfect girl of twenty-two at the final year of my medical school from which I was definitely going to one of the top hospitals for a residency program.
But, there was something else under this prim and proper girl who always aced every question thrown her way, and had knowledge about every possible disease.
It’s one of the deepest secret of me. A secret which I always had to bury inside myself, and always had to fear.
That I had one insatiable slut inside my mind.
It all started during my senior year, but that’s a story for another time.
What really this one is about is how I got caught, and how I was forced to let my inner-me out.
Oh, and by the way, I am Amy Sanders.
A perfect geek girl with the body of a model and the mind of a…
‘Slut!’ My inner-me shouted to complete the sentence, and I gave out a sigh… yeah, you know what my inner-me is.
~~
“Amy, get out of my lecture!” The shriek rebounded through the big hall, and every eye was focused on me.
“With all due respect, ma’am. I am not the one who got the procedures wrong. What if someone from this room had to use your ‘teachings’ and they kills someone in the near or far future!” I retorted from the middle-end of the many rows of seating.
Silence stretched through the many students. Some of them were cowering behind their seats from the heated back-and-forth I and the professor were having. Others had an irritated look on their face, most probably because I was taking their time by bickering with her instead of letting the professor’s mistake go even if I (and they) knew that it was a mistake.
Some boys… though… looked at me like I was a goddess, as I stood proudly from my place and was glowering at the Professor Agatha –a woman of mid-fifties with fake-blonde hair and loads of make-up, and a sagging body which wasn’t hidden and was made repulsive by the revealing ‘sexy’ turtleneck and pencil tight skirts.
I thought, ‘She really should retire. She is getting old.’
“Amelia Sanders. You just failed your Advanced Medicine class. I will personally make sure to ruin your reputation and make sure to…” She started screaming threats as she knew that I wasn’t going to back down, and some students sighed in losing their precious time.
I stood tall while letting the professor rant on, while my best friend from nearby seat, Lindsay Dozer — whose last name perfectly fitted her character of, ‘dozing off’ during lectures—leaned under the table and was laughing hard. She was less like me, and more average. Not that I would ever call her average or try to undermine her or create any inferior feelings.
She was petite, and had less of an hourglass figure and more of the plain girl figure. Her breasts seemed to have stayed the same since she hit puberty as she had bordering B-cups on her side. Still, she was the cutest girl I ever met.
I couldn’t help the grin creeping up on me, as she turned her head to look at me from under the table and made a face mimicking the professor who still hadn’t stopped yelling her threats.
“Fine, professor.” I looked back at the front of the hall and raised my voice over hers, and she stopped yelling.
“I will take extra works from you to compensate for my ramblings,” I said with a cold stare, “but… you are going to apologize for being a slack off and for getting the most important part of this session wrong.”
I heard some gasps from my fellow classmates, who knew what kind of a girl I was and knew that I never minced my words, but I knew that even for them (or me) this was over the board.
“You… you…” Prof. Agatha started sputtering with her face turning red by the second, and walked away to sit down on her seat and then laid her head on her table.
Lindsay looked at me with adoring gaze, and leaned in her head to place a fleeting kiss to my thigh.
I wasn’t into girls by any means. I knew that my inner-me always thought of boys as she rubbed my pussy raw and abused my clit when I let her out in the privacy of my room.
But, I knew Lindsay was into me like that.
Even if I, or the inner-me, didn’t look at her like that, my inner-slut responded to that innocent kiss to my thigh, and my face instantly flushed with arousal.
This was one of the worst parts of me… Getting aroused easily…
My inner-me never let me wear any panties, and I always had to bicker with her to let me wear at least a brassiere so as to not put my nipples on display every single time I get aroused. Getting dressed up always was a war between me and my inner-slut, between wearing elegant suits under my doctor-coat or next to nothing under my coat.
Lindsay gave a knowing grin, got into her normal position and pulled me down back to my seat.
I ignored the whispers of students around me, which even said that I had pushed the Prof. Agatha to hyperventilate or even get a seizure.
But I had troubles concentrating on the outer world as my body heated up, making me blush harder; as my slit got wet with my arousal very quickly; as my nipples hardened under the lacy brassiere I was wearing making my nub to rub on the material, flushing me deeper into arousal. And Lindsay’s warmth leaning into me was not at all helping.
“Amy Sanders, get out of my lecture and into my bed…” Lindsay whispered in a mocking tone mimicking what Prof. Agatha said, and the thoughts of the sagging professors body pushed back my slut inside me with her screaming, ‘Eww!’
I took a deep breath, and gave a gratuitous smile at her.
Lindsay was one of my high school friends and had been with me ever since kindergarten. We even had been neighborhood buddies and used to stay together a lot. She was the only person in this whole big university who knew my secret.
“*Giggles* I will one day get you, Mi.” She whispered and kissed my neck. I looked around to confirm that no one, not even my closest admirers, had seen that kiss… oh thank god.
“Class dismissed…” Prof. Agatha muttered, and got up from her seat, and walked out of the hall and disappeared in seconds.
Some of the top students sighed, and some were smiling knowing that they would get more time to do their study sessions. Lindsay got up and switched from that predatory look to her enthusiastic one, and pulled me from my seat.
“You are a bad-ass!” She yelled, and my group of friends giggled from behind me.
To say the truth, my friends were more a follower/admirer kind of people. Real friends never suck up or follow your every command like it was from a goddess. Lindsay was my only real friend, even if I would never undermine my other ‘friends’ by saying this.
As we walked out of class, I excused myself and Lindsay from my friends and pulled her along with me as I went to the restroom.
“Mi. You are sooo cool. You put that bitchy professor in her place!” She hugged me from behind, and draped herself over me, as she squealed out her appreciation.
I sighed and pushed her away a little and slammed the door of the first stall I could get in, effectively shutting her out.
Sitting on the toilet seat, I unbuttoned the buttons at the middle of the coat and stepped out of my coat, along with my skirt.
I came here, because I knew what the by-products of me getting aroused would be. I tore some toilet paper and started dabbing them on my juices, which even if I had been aroused for only some seconds, had moisturized my whole slit and a drop was almost running down my thigh. I cleaned that drop off, tore another piece and started touching my slit.
It was enough for my inner-slut to come out, and she whined and moaned under her breath at each touch. She still was cleaning our pussy, but she was taking so much pleasure from it. And before I knew it, my arousal was coming back like a freight train.
You know what happens when I get aroused.
The tissues were not working anymore at all. As soon as my inner-me wiped away some juices, fresh ones took their place. Soon, my hands had crept up and had got under my brassiere and were rubbing my nub.
I threw away the tissues and started rubbing my puffed up pussy lips slowly at first. Louder moans started slipping from my mouth. My long masturbating sessions during my early years had perfected the skills of my fingers and had made them, what we doctors term as, muscle-memories. Even without knowing, my right hand was pinching my nipples as it alternated between both of them. And my left hand was working earnestly on both the outside of my pussy and inside of it and my little best-friend clit.
With perfect motions, two of my left hand fingers were working inside me, two were working on the outside and my thumb was abusing my sensitive pleasure button.
My legs were propped up on either side, and I was leaning against the wall, without a care in the world, and was furiously working myself up.
It took no more than a minute for me to feel that golden ball of pleasure building inside me. Feeling it, my inner-me started punishing my clit with pinches, and the pain melded into the ball and was fast-forwarding the feeling, and I moaned, “Fuck, yes…”
Right as I was about to go over the edge, a voice slithered from outside and into my mind, “Amy Sanders… I told you to get out of my lecture and into my bed… what the hell are you doing here naked…? Not that I am not enjoying the view and seems you are enjoying yourself… Should we start it here, sweetie…?”
“No!” I and my inner-slut moaned together, as the revulsion completely grabbed that golden ball and crushed it. My orgasm slipped away, and my arousal went down as if that fire inside me had been thrown under a gushing waterfall.
Thoughts of Prof. Agatha… that sagging woman… ugh… standing in front of me with her hands buried under that pencil skirt, filled my mind and I couldn’t bear to rub my sensitive parts anymore. I sighed in frustration.
“Seriously!?” I groaned, as I started cleaning the evidence of my arousal with some toilet paper and pulled myself up from the seat. Redressing myself, and after some moments of battling with those wrinkles, I opened the door and poked my head out.
Lindsay was standing by the sinks with her hands crossed, and a smirk on her face. I wanted to jump her, and claw at her for doing that, because no one other than her could possibly be behind this.
She held up her hands in a mock surrender and grinned. Balling my fists, I sighed. I smothered the coat once more, trying to ignore the now grinning Lindsay…
“Bitch, did you really have to do that…?” I whispered as I walked to the sink next to her and started splashing my face with water.
“Mi. All you have to do to cum is to let me do the honors.” She said, and I turned to look at her.
She pouted, and placed her hands on her left breast as if mimicking a heart-ache and murmured, “It hurts me to think that you would have such a willing partner like me nearby and take care of the deed by yourself inside a restroom stall…”
Walking over to her, I gave a playful nudge and twirled, “IS there anything to take care of? Am I presentable?”
“*Giggle* You are gorgeous, but there is a wet spot right under your coochie.” She whispered with a twinkle in her voice.
“Shit…” I tried to hide it, and rubbed at it. It seemed to have soaked into the cloth and won’t probably come out till I wash it, which I didn’t have the time for now.
“It’s not your fault that you are slut, and are super-sensitive and super-aroused all the time.” Lindsay whispered, and I glared at her.
I hated her when she called me a slut. My inner-me and I were two different people. I wasn’t a slut. Well, technically I was, and my repressed behavior must have created this ‘inner-slut’ which I used to comfort myself that I wasn’t one. For a prodigy of medicine, one would know that repressed behavior meant they had a greater chance to have a split personality.
“And sorry, Mi. I thought it was funny… And I am sorry… that I just called you a slut… I know you hate it, and think yourself as a split-personality person… I do too… You are not a slut…” Lindsay leaned her against my shoulder, and apologized with exactly what I had said to her more than a hundred times. That I had a split-personality.
Only I knew that it wasn’t much of a split-personality, but it was just me in truth… but I would never give up this life to be a slut for sex and sex alone. Even if I craved to just rub myself silly for hours on the end, and just get fucked every second.
Lindsay turned her head and pressed a kiss to my shoulder and moved away to just hold my hand. She still wasn’t sure of being that close to me and letting others see her that way.
I could never push my best friend away, even if she started trying to get intimate with me. But, she had a feeling that it would damage our relationship and would hurt us both, which she was right about.
I sighed.
We walked out of the restroom, and walked away to the next lecture. While my inner-slut whispered,
“Lindsay is ours.”
~~
Unbeknownst to the two girls, a figure was sitting in the stall next to where the Inner-slut had masturbated. She too had her hand inside her skirt, feeling very weird for the first time. She knew what sex was, for she was a professor of medicine. But, she never found the right man.
At her time, no woman could have possibly became a renowned doctor, let alone a professor to teach medicine, and all the men only looked to dump her out. So, she was forced to live a celibate life through the peak of her womanhood.
It was a weird feeling, she could say that much.
She had a grin too, on her face.
She finally could put a slut in her place. All she needed to destroy that all-knowing cunt was to make her do humiliating things, and for that she would need some blackmail material. She should have some leverage on that slut to force her into isolation and make her pay for what that slut did to her…
A plan formed in her mind, and her grin became big, as she had the exact means to do just that…
She pulled her phone and dialed a long-lost number, “Hey Chris… I need a favor…”
!!
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Hey, this is Bright&DarkSides.
Did you give me a rating!? Please do… or not. It won’t do anything to stop me. But, it definitely would push me to write more.
This is just the prologue of the Inner-slut series. And this is my first erotic story. Comments are welcome, and give me a pm if you want me to write something else.
You would be surprised to know how twisted one’s mind can be, and anything can be made a reality with good writing, and I will try my best with words to make yours come true.