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Amy had been waiting by the fountain for over twenty minutes. She checked her pocket watch again, looked out at the empty path around her, and sighed.
Arthur had said to meet her at ten right here in the campus park, exactly where he'd told her. It was a nice spot. Secluded, with a beautiful garden, tulip beds and flower arrangements that made the whole area feel peaceful.
But he wasn't here. And he wasn't coming. He'd sent a message just before ten saying something had come up.
Amy had no other plans for the night. So what was she going to do not show up?
'It's fine. It's an excuse to get outside anyway.'
She sat with it for a moment.
'It's just he's always busy. He hasn't had time for me in so long.'
She fidgeted with her hands at her waist, a restless energy running through her.
'I've been so pent up. No matter how many times I touch myself it's never enough. He put this mark on me and won't even use it. Won't even treat me like I'm his. It's so frustrating.'
She stood, shook the feeling off, and started walking — no particular direction, just moving through the garden, letting her feet take her. It was late enough that nobody else would be out here. She could stomp around and mutter to herself as much as she wanted.
A small smile crept onto her face as her hands drifted to the hem of her skirt.
Or maybe — just maybe — she could touch herself a little, out here. The thought sent a thrill through her, and she started hunting for a perfectly secluded spot to slip away to.
So caught up in her plans, Amy never noticed she wasn't alone.
Out in the distance, camouflaged against the terrain, a figure watched.
Vespa.
—
As she walked, Amy didn't know when it started only that it had. A restless feeling, creeping in without warning. It began in her chest, a strange prickling heat radiating out from her sternum. She rubbed at it as she went, but it didn't help. If anything it got worse, climbing up the back of her neck before settling low in her stomach, her thighs clenching together on instinct.
She was already wound up, already pent up but this was something else. Her body reacting on its own, a heat far greater than before rising without her permission.
'What is wrong with me today?'
Her hands kept drifting to the hem of her skirt, fingers running up and down the fabric, restless, unable to stay still.
With every few steps the heat surged again stronger each time, like a tide pulling her somewhere specific. Away from the open air, away from the lit walkways, toward the east side of the garden where the trees swallowed the light and deep shadows pooled across the ground. No walkways. No foot traffic. Her body seemed to already know the best place to be alone, guiding her there before she'd even decided to go.
All the while, Vespa trailed at a distance, aura rolling off her in quiet waves, brushing against Amy like a current.
'Good girl,' Vespa thought, watching her follow along perfectly.
And before she knew it, Amy had found the spot. A small alcove set into the roots of a large tree, natural cover on every side. A polished wooden bench sat against the trunk the kind of place a professor might come to read on a quiet afternoon. At night, with nobody around, it was something else entirely.
Amy sat. Spread her legs. Lifted the hem of her skirt, letting the night air touch bare skin, her fingers trailing slowly down.
She looked at the tattoo the mark Arthur had left on her. Her hand passed over it. She bit her lip, the thought of him rising unbidden Arthur touching her here, out in the open, just like this.
Her fingers slipped lower. She began to touch herself, slow.
"Oh, Arthur—"
Amy closed her eyes, imagining his hands on her body, the heat of him pressed close as he held her. A jolt of electricity ran down her spine. She slipped a finger in, slow and circling, teasing herself, her imagination running wild.
She picked up the pace wet, warm, losing herself in it, faster and faster
"Well. You look like you're having quite the day."
Amy's eyes snapped open.
She twisted around and there, standing in front of her, was a woman. Tall, full-figured, auburn hair falling in waves over her shoulders, hazel eyes fixed straight on her with an easy, unhurried expression.
An instructor.
Robin.
"Robin hi." Amy shot upright on the bench, yanking her skirt back down, her whole face going up in flames. "I was just resting. I was just sitting out here and—"
"Resting." Robin came closer, no urgency about her, a small smile on her face. She stopped right in front of the bench. "You kids always come up with something new. But last I checked, resting doesn't involve fingering yourself in public."
Embarrassed, Amy turned away, unable to look her in the eye.
"Now listen, child I ain't going to fault you for wanting a little personal me-time. Lord knows everybody needs it." Robin's tone stayed easy, almost grandmotherly. "But what are you doing all the way out here for it? Couldn't you have asked that boyfriend of yours to take care of you?"
"B-boyfriend!? He's not my boyfriend, he-he-he's just— someone that I— umm— we— that— umm— we— umm—"
"Mm-hm." Robin watched the girl tie herself in knots with the patient amusement of a woman who'd heard every flavor of it's complicated a hundred times over. "Sure. He's 'just someone.' That so."
"It's not— we're not— it's complicated—" Amy's hands did something helpless in the air in front of her.
"Oh, I'd wager it is." Robin's smile didn't waver, but it changed shape went a little knowing, a little sad at the edges. "Tell me, child. This 'someone' you won't put a name to. He the one who gave you that?"
She nodded down, once, toward Amy's bare thigh.
Amy froze.
Her hand flew down to cover the mark on her inner thigh but the damage was done. Robin had seen everything.
"It's nothing," Amy said quickly. "It's just a— it's a tattoo, it doesn't—"
"Sweetheart." Robin crouched, meeting her at eye level.
"I already know what that mark means. You decided to trust that young man and let him mark you. Not really knowing whether he'd hold you close even when you asked him to." Her mouth tightened. "Tch. I hate to see a promising young man treat a lovely lady like this. Here come along with me. I think the two of us can work together on teaching him some manners."
Amy hesitated, the hand still pressed over her thigh.
"I— I don't know if I should—"
"No buts, missy." Robin's tone left no room in it. "If you want to get that man's attention really get it I know exactly what you need to do."
Amy looked up at her, wary and wanting all at once.
"A-and that is?"
Robin smiled, slow and certain.
"Come with me, and I'll show you."