Inflicting Pain (gxg)

● F I F T E E N | Fetish ●

† Q U I N N †

Fetish is more than just a simple attraction; it's a symbol of something deeper, often connected to the hidden parts of our minds. It's like art—it lets us explore parts of the world that might otherwise feel off-limits.

Some people's fetishes are simple and harmless, while others can be strange or even unsettling. I know mine falls into the category that many would see as twisted, perhaps even dangerous and forbidden. Yet, it's something I deeply crave—something I yearn to see and to experience.

As the class wrapped up, Professor Brown spoke to the room. "Before leaving, I encourage everyone to check out the Arts exhibit on the ground floor. The Arts department has displayed our students' work and more," she announced.

I stood up, gathering my things, and made my way toward the door when I heard her call my name. "Quinn Grey," she said softly as I passed by. I stopped and gave her a blank look, showing no expression. She reached out and brushed her fingers along my arm.

"No, bitch," I whispered, raising an eyebrow.

She smirked, chuckling under her breath. "Are you mad because I nailed my interpretation of your work, Quinn?" Her eyes held mine, defiant.

I shot her a hard look. "You're lucky we're in a classroom with all these students around, or I might just choke you right now, Professor."

"Well then, go ahead, Quinn," she taunted. "Grab my neck, feel it. I know you want to." She was unfazed, still wearing that smug expression. My gaze flickered from her face to her neck, and I could see her pulse, tempting me. My jaw tightened, fists balled up as I tried to keep my composure. With one final look, I turned and walked out before I do something I couldn't take back.

As I reached the ground floor, I noticed a few people wandering through the art exhibit. With time to spare, I decided to step inside and take a quick look. The room was filled with paintings and handcrafted pieces, each one made by students. I drifted from one display to the next, but then I suddenly froze, spotting a familiar piece.

My jaw clenched, and I could feel my teeth grinding in frustration. Right in front of me was the painting I had drawn in class, now showcased without my consent.

"That fucking bitch!" I hissed under my breath, glaring at the piece. I knew exactly who was responsible for this.

"I thought it was a beautiful piece," a voice said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. "It looks sad and agonizing. But very deep." The blonde, green-eyed woman stood beside me, her gaze fixed on the painting with a faint smile. I chuckled, shaking my head, but as I glanced over at her, I could see she wasn't just admiring the artwork. Her eyes seemed to hold a blend of curiosity, sadness, and amusement—like she was searching for something beyond the surface.

"I really don't understand your fascination and kinks with... women's necks," Chloe said, casting me a sidelong glance. "But I'm not here to judge, Quinn. This really is a great piece of artwork." Her emerald eyes met mine, calm but probing, as if she was trying to unravel some hidden part of me.

Then, out of nowhere, she placed a gentle hand on my arm. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, my chest pounding as my breath caught in my throat. "Now, you're the one who intrigues me." She smiled, her expression soft and warm, yet leaving me completely speechless.

I could only stand there, watching as she moved past me, casually drifting toward the other artworks, while I tried to steady the rush of emotions she'd left in her wake.

† C H L O E †

Everyone has a fetish; it's just that some people hide it better than others. Fetishes are where our desires meet our imagination, creating a unique blend of attraction and fantasy that we might not always share. There's a fine line between simple curiosity and a full-blown fetish—it's all about how far we're willing to explore that intersection.