The dorm is empty and quiet. Just the way I like it, and now, the way I need it. It's like the animal urges in me are taking over, but I don't have anyone to help. I need to take care of this myself because I'm going to go crazy if I don't. I toss Gambol Shroud to the foot of my bed. The rest of my clothes quickly follow, but only make a trail leading to my bed. Is the door locked? Taking a moment to check, I realize that it isn't and quickly change that. It is now. I don't need anyone interrupting me. I lean against the door to take a moment to relax, but my hands quickly leave my sides. I massage my breasts slowly at first, drawing out what pleasure I can before I inevitably go wild. I find myself sliding down to the floor, but get up to continue in my bed. I hurriedly take the few steps over and flop onto my back, continuing my rubbing. My right hand slides down quickly, eager to pleasure me further. It begins with rubbing, teasing compared to what will follow. Slowly, one finger enters and slides back and forth. Then a second, and soon a third. Within a minute, four of my fingers are sliding around inside me, each rubbing at slightly different spots. I feel myself approaching the tipping point as my back arches and I scream out in ecstasy. I relax my body, and spread my limbs out around me. As my eyes drift down in slight sleepiness, I see Gambol Shroud. It lays there at the foot of my bed, just a mere foot from my toes. I sit up and grab it, admiring it as I turn it around in my hands. The way the light shines on only a few specific places is pleasing. The way the ribbon is draped over my body feels almost enticing. Desire takes over as I sit up with my legs over the side of the bed, unsheath the blade, and loop the ribbon once around my stomach. I then take the ribbon and create figure-8s with the ribbon and my legs. Work complete, I lay back and feel the pistol that makes up the handle lay against my stomach and press lightly into me. I hesitantly pull the trigger. A single round goes off and the back of the gun is driven into me. The blade presses against the ribbon around my legs and prevents the weapon from staying inside me. The ejected shell flies past my left leg. I feel a subtle warmth from it and listen as it drops lightly onto the floor. The pleasure is immense and the process is almost entirely painless. I pull the trigger again, eagerly this time. The process repeats again and again until I hear the clicking that signifies an empty magazine. I sigh with slight disappointment as I was nearly at that point of pure pleasure again. I sit up and grab the upper half of my outfit from the floor. I must've left some in here. Much to my excitement, I find a larger magazine. I also notice a length of ribbon that had come undone. As an idea pops into my head, I lay back again and proceed to tie the rest of the ribbon around my upper legs, and loop it through the trigger guard as well. Hopefully this works. I reach down to pull the trigger. The second it takes to fire the first shot feels like a minute. It's becomes worth it as the trigger bounces back up into the ribbon, essentially firing itself again. I lay back and moan increasingly louder with each thump of the weapon against me. I finish just as the ammunition does, spraying out onto the gun that is in front of me. As I look up at the ceiling, a final thought occurs. How do I explain the bullet holes?