Pretty Little Addict: Ruining the School Belle

I'm a campus belle who's addicted to carnal pleasures. The frequent triggers caused by my addiction have heavily affected my and Michael Buckley, my boyfriend's lives and studies.

Left without a choice, Michael and I can only head over to the campus clinic to undergo treatment that helps me cut down on my addiction.

The one administering treatment to me happens to be a well-built doctor. The way he treats me shocks me to no end.

Later on, he straps me to the examination table. I'm so frightened that I keep begging him to release me with tears running down my cheeks.

But he responds by lifting my legs roughly.

My name was Heidi McFarrell. On the way to the campus clinic with my boyfriend, Michael Buckley, the urges overwhelmed me again. It felt like countless snakes wriggling inside me. The itch was unbearable.

My eyes glazed over. I pressed my legs tightly together, searching Michael's face for help. "You little slut," he muttered under his breath.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. In the beginning, Michael had always indulged my impulses, but as time passed, he simply couldn't cope. He picked up a can from the ground and handed it to me. "Deal with it yourself."

The can, though, wasn't quite long enough. Speechless, Michael returned to the trash bin and dug out a bottle for me.

I stepped into a small grove. After slipping off my pants, I was ready. Suddenly, someone hugged me from behind. I thought it was Michael.

Panting, I spun around—only to find it wasn't him. I tried to push the man away and run, but his grip was tight. I screamed for Michael, but there was no answer.

In a grove this quiet and empty, there was no way he couldn't hear me. Suddenly, a memory struck me—a few days ago, he had talked about setting me up with another man. It seemed all too possible that he had sent this one on purpose.

The bottle was still inside me, and after all the frantic movement, my body had turned to jelly. I quickly lost the strength to resist.

The man took the chance to pin me down. In my fear and shock, I swung at him weakly.

Just as he was about to undo his pants, I grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground and smeared it across his face. I hadn't aimed carefully, and it landed straight in his eyes.

He slapped me hard and shouted at me for being a hypocrite. Hearing the commotion, Michael hurried over.

"Man, your girlfriend's a freaking whore. She almost blinded me. You should leave her and find someone better." The man threw 50 dollars on the ground before storming off in a fury.

Michael helped me to my feet and asked if I was okay. I felt a stab in my chest, and tears streamed down my face again.

"How can you even ask that? Isn't this your fault? What kind of boyfriend would