Chapter 7
WES PAPKER WAS SOMEWHAT NERVOUS as he drove to classes after the eventful evening he had spent in the girls' locker room with Celia Brown. He half expected to find a squad of policemen awaiting his arrival at the college. But that was silly! Celia could not possibly have recognized him. Or could she? Possibly some small thoughtless thing had betrayed him, a lost handkerchief, or a pen, any personal item that could be traced to him. That was how they always trapped the criminal on television crime shows.
His entrance into the faculty lounge scarcely elicited any attention at all. He strolled over to Dean Moon and Brenda Sloan, who were talking together.
"Morning, ladies," he said genially. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
In her horn-rimmed glasses and shapeless, mannish suit, it was difficult to conceive of Phylis Moon as the panting female he had made love to in a dark closet. Brenda's trim figure was flattered by a new spring dress and a new girdle that did not bind her naturally rounded hips so severely. He spoke with the ladies about mundane subjects connected with the curriculum. As the first bell rang, Dean Moon said to him, "Stop by my office when you get a chance. I want to talk to you privately."
He said he would, and went on to his first class. On the way, he walked with Ann Wayne, a pretty twenty-seven-year-old economics instructor. She was a healthy, bright-eyed, vibrant girl, with an excess of energy and exuberance. It was always a wonder to Wes that such a girl was unmarried. She was a sloe-eyed, raven-haired doll, and her figure was gorgeous. Big-busted and big-hipped, she had the long legs of a dancer and a derriere with a seventeen-jewel movement. Her assets were on display blatantly today, in her form-fitting wool knit dress.
The reason that Ann had never married was that she was secretly afraid of men, not in social company, but at the prospect of being naked with a man, and having him do that to her! From the time she had learned about love, Ann had been horrified by the whole concept. How humiliating for a girl! On the surface, though, Ann seemed perfectly adjusted. She even enjoyed the casual attention of men, as long as that could lead nowhere. In fact, she dressed to emphasize her charms, which were considerable. She preferred married men because they posed less of a threat to her inviolate virginity. At least that's what she believed. She liked Wes Parker better than any other married man she knew.
"Celia Brown is out today," she informed him. "Got a touch of the virus."
Wes repressed a smile. A touch of the virus, that was rich! He was pretty certain now that she had not, and would not, tell the law about her attack in the locker room. He left Ann at her classroom and went on to his own. The morning went swiftly, and before lunch he stopped in to see Phylis Moon.
"I've made a momentous decision, Wes," she told him over coffee. "I'm going to take a leave of absence at the end of the term. A year, maybe more, I don't know yet."
"Why? Are you ill?"
She smiled, pushing wisps of hair away from her smooth forehead. Her eyes were bright and clear. "Not in the way you're thinking. But, yes, I am ill. At forty-two, I'm over the hill. Not as a professional woman, but as a woman, a female." She dropped her eyes shyly. "I learned that on Saturday afternoon from you, Wes. I found out that I wasn't ready for that kind of retirement from life. I've been starving my natural female impulses for five years. Spending my energy on the job. Keeping the woman in me bottled up like a genie. Well, you set the genie free, and I'm grateful."
Wes colored. "I'm grateful to you. You're quite a woman, Phyllis."
"Thank you. But, I've been thinking. I can't go on any longer without male companionship, male comfort. Without the glorious bliss that only a man can give me. At the same time, I can't snatch that bliss in quick little scenes like the one we had. Sooner or later there'd be scandal. Trouble. Anyway, it's against my moral principles to seduce other women's husbands. The point is, I want to get away and think about my future. Take a good long look at myself. I want to spend more time with Janet, too. I've been a neglectful mother as well as a self-deprived female. Before she gets into serious trouble. I'm going to straighten her out. I think well go to Europe for starters and see what happens from there."
"What about the college?" Wes asked.
"That's what I want to talk to you about. When I notify the Board of Directors that I'm leaving, I want to submit your name with the recommendation that you be appointed acting dean in my absence." She smiled. "If I decide not to return, you'll have the job on a permanent basis."
Wes was truly flabbergasted. "That that's wonderful. Phylis. I-I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything until you get the job. There's a string attached. I happen to know that when this decision becomes public, Brenda Sloan is going to submit her own application for the job. Now, don't underestimate hex. She's got a lot of backing among the faculty and some powerful friends on the Board. And there's your big handicap, of course."
"What's that?" he asked.
She came around the desk and sat down unexpectedly on his lap. "You're a man. And tradition has always held that the dean of Jane Richmond College must be a woman. Now, traditions are toppling every day, and I have even' confidence that the Board will see reason, and appoint the best qualified candidate to the position. That's you, Wesley."
He felt no desire for her, but, in simple gratitude he unbuttoned the top button of her blouse and slipped his hand beneath her brassiere. The warm, silken globe quivered on his palm, and the rising nipple pricked his flesh.
"You're a remarkable woman, Phylis."
She laughed and sighed. "Thanks, Wes. That's delicious, what you're doing. And, if I wasn't the dean of this school, and if I didn't have a one o'clock appointment with an irate parent, I'd like to have mad passionate love with you right on this chair. Once this job is through, Paris here I cornel"
When she got up, he got up too. "Can I do anything to better my chances?" he asked.
"Possibly Of course, you will have your doctorate at the end of the semester. That will be essential. Brenda will have hers, also. What we really have to think of is some way to focus public attention on you, Wes. If you could accomplish some noteworthy achievement in the next few months, something that would reflect credit on the school as weD as on you, I think you'd be a shoo-in for the job."
His laugh was brittle. "Oh sure. I'D brew myself up a batch of 'instant hero.' Really, Phylis, do you have any ideas?"
"As a matter-of-fact, I do. This appointment I have today is with Asher Freed, the millionaire."
"His daughter is in one of my classes," he said. "Nice girl.""
The dean grinned. "Not so nice, actually. Her father claims she belongs to an orgy club here."
Wes was shocked. "Here? At Jane Richmond? That's incredible!"
"I think so, too. But I suspect his facts are right. I've been hearing rumors of this for quite a while, now. Anonymous phone calls, that kind of thing. Also, when Kitty Wells withdrew in her junior year last fall, there was a great deal of mystery about it. I've since learned she's in a mental institution. And I'm sure her trouble stemmed from this orgy club."
"That's as much as you know about it, though?"
"Yes. The members are intelligent and discreet. And bound to silence. Bound by a certain amount of fear, no doubt. Reprisals, you know. But more than that, this organization offers them an outlet for all their repressions, no matter how abnormal and depraved."
Wes shook his head gravely. "It's got to be broken up, before the news leaks out and ruins the reputation of the school."
"That's what I had in mind, Wes. You have got to play detective and break up this orgy ring, or whatever you'd call it. If you can do it, your appointment as dean will be assured. I can promise you."
That was all well and good, Wes thought, but how? "I'll think about it," he promised. "And thanks for your support."
"You deserve it, Wes."
All through lunch, he kept thinking about it. Where to begin? With the students, he guessed. He mentally tabulated likely members of the orgy club from among the girls at the college. Daisy Kelly? No! Wanda Holmes? No! Pat Carr? No! Janet Moon? Janet was definitely the type. Connie Beach? Most definitely not! He thought of Connie as a bright, no-nonsense kind of a girl. When he got back to his office, he made a list of the girls who might bear some investigating. Janet Moon was at the top of the list.
After classes, he stopped her in the hall. "Could you spare me a few minutes this afternoon, Miss Moon?"
Janet gave him her come-hither smile. "I'll give you as much time as you want, professor."
He coughed. "I keep telling you, I am not to be I addressed as professor until I have my degree."
She winked. "Okay, prof. When and where, and I what'll we do? I could suggest something."
To his irritation he felt himself flushing. "At my office, any time after four o'clock."
"I have field hockey practice today. How about I five?" She stretched and arched her back so that her I sharp breasts thrust against the rayon blouse. He could see the distinct outline of her nipple, and he was sure she must be naked beneath the thin material.
"Five will be fine," he said.
The time passed quickly, and he had just finished clearing up some belated correspondence when Janet arrived. She walked in and closed the door behind her, giggling.
"Isn't this cozy, prof?"
His voice was severe. "It is not proper for a male teacher to be in a closed office with a female student. What did you do that for?"
She put her books down on his desk and sat down in a chair alongside the desk. "Because I don't like snoops listening outside the door when I am speaking privately with my guidance counselor."
He decided to leave the door closed, at that. It wouldn't do to have anyone eavesdrop on this conversation. Looking at Janet Moon, he was reminded of the Saturday afternoon when he and her mother had been in the closet, and Janet and her boy friend had been on the couch. He would have given a good deal to have had a peek through the keyhole that day. He had heard plenty, of course, but everybody knows that one picture is worth a thousand words. He liked to picture Janet in that kind of pose.
She was a very alluring female, with her cat's eyes and the unruly blonde hair that was always falling over one eye. Her mouth was pouting and sensual. The clinging nylon blouse fit the contours of her unfettered boobs like a second skin. She knew where his eyes were fixed, and smiled, poking the upturned nipples out brazenly.
"What are you going to chew me out about today, prof?" she asked lightly.
Wes frowned. "Your English usage, for one thing. 'Chewed out,' that's revolting, Janet."
She winked. "Depends on who's chewing, and what he's chewing."
He ignored the innuendo. He was certain he was on the right track. If there was an orgy club on the campus, Janet Moon would be one of the first people to find out about it. But he had to play it cool, as the saying went. He began the interview with a severe admonishing about the low state of her grades.
"Not just in English, either." he told her. "You're failing in psych, economics and French."
She refused to be concerned. "I'll cram the last week before exams. Tt never fails."
"Don't be too sure. Anyway, this is your last year. Don't you want something better than C-minuses on your transcript this term?"
She yawned and slumped on the chair, with her legs flung out in front of her. She was wearing loafers with bobby socks and her smooth round legs were bare from ankle to midway above the knee. For the tenth time that day, Wes observed that these new shortie skirts the girls were wearing were indecent. No wonder the rape rate was going up in leaps and bounds! The girls were asking for trouble. They walked down the street wiggling their rears, with the skirts so tight that you could see the outline of their panties underneath. If they were wearing panties, that is' He wondered whether or not Janet was wearing any. Maybe not. She had no bra on, that was for sure.
"Lecture over, prof?" She lit a cigarette and blew smoke in his face. "Do you know you're kind of cute?"
"Please, Miss Moon!"
"Miss Moon, again!" she scoffed.
"Janet, be serious a moment. Aside from your grades, I want to talk to you about something else. Not to do with school."
She blew back the strand of hair that hung across her face and feigned shock. "Are you propositioning me, sir?"
"Janet "
"I accept." She laughed gaily at his discomfort. The skirt slipped an inch higher. Her fleshy legs had the consistency of velvet cocoa butter. She was athletic, and her legs were firm and tan from exposure to the outdoors. His tension was beginning to assert itself.
"Janet, your mother requested me to speak with you about this or I wouldn't be interfering, believe me. She's worried about the hours and the company you've been keeping lately."
She yawned, stirring his passion higher. She was a strange, exotic girl, and he found her intriguing-She studied him slyly. "They're my hours and my company. I'm twenty-two now. prof. I'm a woman, in case you haven't noticed. A grown woman." She thrust out her breasts to emphasize the point. "I don't ask Phylis to account to me for what she does. And, incidentally, I wonder what she does do when I'm not around? She was done up awfully imagine that day you were supposed to call." The idea delighted her. "Professor Parker, don't tell me that you and mother are playing around together?"
Wes carefully held his temper. "You're not very funny, Janet. However, as you say, you are of age, and I have no right to tell you what to do "
She shifted on the chair, facing him more directly, and his heart leaped. All he had to dp was slouch down a little on his chair . . .
Janet had baited the trap quite purposefully. After her shower in the locker room after practice, she had slipped her panties into her handbag. She saw him slide down on the chair, felt his eyes on her.
She moved her knees a fraction to tease him, saw the beads of perspiration form on his forehead.
She was bared to him shockingly for a brief, dizzy moment, and then she shrieked in delight. "You dirty old man! Just look at you! I'll bet you were looking under my dress, weren't you. And me with-out any panties!" She covered her face with her hands in mock shame.
He sat up straight, fire red, humiliated and angry.
"You deserve a good spanking," he said.
"Be my guest." Janet stood up, put her back to him and poked out her buttocks.
That was enough! The anger exploded through him, and. with the pounding lust, caused a novel fusing of emotions that would seem incompatible, but which, in reality, were a perfect blend.
"You brat!" He reached out and grabbed her suddenly by the hips and pulled her, face down, across his knees.
"Hey, cut that out!" she said in genuine alarm "I was only joking."
"Well, I'm not! You've had this due you for a long time!" He flipped up her skirt over her hips, exposing her bare buttocks, pert, round, swelling temptingly. His palm itched.
She was wriggling furiously and kicking out with her legs, but he held her firmly with his left hand, while his right went way up, then came whistling down with all of his might, dead center on target.
The impact stung his hand, and sent fire licking through her.
She roared in pain. "You lousy fink! Wait till I tell mother about this! Shell fire you so fast -"
His second whack cut her off. The sound of his hard palm meeting her soft rear echoed off the walls of the small room. The imprint of his hand and fingers was branded in red on the aching flesh. Her eyes bulged, and the breath was stuck in her lungs from the shock. She couldn't speak.
The fourth blow was the catalyst! Her buttocks were fire red and smarting so excruciatingly that they were almost numb. Not quite, though. Instead of intensifying the pain, his blow generated a new sensation. Her flesh quivered as the abused nerve endings commenced to tingle with an altogether different feeling, a very pleasurable feeling. Quickly, the new pleasure submerged the pain. She was rolling and groaning and rearing to meet his blows. The impact of his palm pounded the delicious sensation through her body. Unable to stand the exquisite torture a moment longer, she slipped her cool hands beneath her blouse and gently massaged her boobs.
Her body held so much pleasure that she could endure no more. She lifted high, then went stiff for one second, as a queer sound vibrated deep in her throat. Then the vibration spread, and her whole body began to quake. He was afraid for a bad moment that she would shake the two of them over in the chair. Then the storm swept away very quickly, like the most violent phenomenons of nature usually do.
He held her on his lap, a whimpering, grateful child who was awed and still a little frightened by the experience she had just savored. "I never knew anything so wonderful in my life," she whispered She sat up and curled on his lap with her arms around his neck. "You are great, professor."
"I'm out of my mind," he told her. He got up and put her down on the edge of his desk. She sat there, with her skirt bunched up about her waist, waiting for him to take off his trousers. He let them fall about his ankles, not bothering to take them off. There wasn't time. He was dying with passion. Her eyes widened.
"Wow! You are in a bad way, prof!"
He had to smile at that irony. He didn't waste time on preliminaries, but moved to her quickly. But the instant that he touched her, she let out a sharp cry of pain and recoiled.
"What's wrong?" he demanded.
"I can't. I'm too sore from that spanking you gave me. Not that I'm complaining, prof honey. But you won't be able to touch me. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry!" He glared at her in frantic frustration. "What am I going to do?" he asked forlornly
The young girl smiled. "No problem, prof. You rate the best after what you did for me " She made him sit down on his chair again, and his muscles rippled in torture as she ran her smooth hands along his legs, caressed, pressed, teased. Gently she bent to him, and the tension left him. He fell back with his eyes closed as her hands and kisses worshipped him, smiling happily.
"I'll have to be careful sitting down for a week," Janet complained later as she washed up at the small sink in a corner of the room. "But I don't mind. That was good practice for the next meeting of the " She caught herself abruptly.
"Next meeting of what?" he asked curiously.
"Nothing." Her voice was sullen. "You must have misunderstood me."
He took a shot in the dark. "Next meeting of the orgy club, isn't that right? That's what you almost said."
She smiled sheepishly. "How did you know?"
He played it lightly. "There's one at every college. What about this club? Tell me about it."
She shook her head. "Nothing doing, prof. I'd get my boobs cut off if I broke the First Commandment."
"First Commandment?"
"'See no evil. Speak no evil. Hear no evil.' I feel sorry for anyone who breaks them. Rats on another member, or betrays the secrets of the club."
He smiled tolerantly. "What would happen ? You'd be blackballed?"
Her lattgh was dry. "I told you. The rest of the members would lay for me, and they'd cut off my boobs. Not really, I guess, but they'd cut them up so bad that I'd never dare let anybody ever see me naked again."
A chill ran down his spine. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
"Could I join?" he asked guardedly.
She frowned. "You are kidding . . . aren't you?"
"Not in the least. After what happened here today, I wouldn't kid you. I've lost my taste for normal love. That's gone stale. The club might be just what I need to pep me up."
She regarded him thoughtfully for a long time. "Well.. . could be. But I'd have to discuss it first with the president of the club." She grinned. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if she just might buy it at that."
He didn't push her further. After she had left, he sat smoking his pipe and wondering if the club would buv the pitch he had given to Janet about his reason for wanting to join.
Pitch? What he had told her was the truth. Maybe the club was what he needed!
For some moments he continued to sit there, wreathed in the smoke from his pipe, musing at the prospect of becoming a member of this secretive group of nefarious revelers.
Again, he wondered which of the students of his acquaintance, besides Janet, of course, comprised the membership of the orgy club. How large was the organization? Who was behind it, who supervised its operations, how long had it been in existence? And, above all, what went on at those meetings?
Wes smiled to himself as a thrill of anticipation coursed through his body.
He was sure that soon, very soon, he would find those answers for himself. He had to!