Chapter 8
Nicholas rubbed his eyes sleepily with his hands and squinted at the alarm clock that sat next to his bed. The hands read nine o'clock. Crap! Nick murmured to himself as he rolled over onto his back and pulled his goose-down pillow across his sleep-ravaged face. Suddenly he heard a light knocking at the door.
"Hey, Nicky, there's a call for you on the pay-phone," one of his frat brothers called into his room. Nick pulled the pillow from his head and sat up on the edge of the bed. He still felt exhausted from the sexual gymnastics he had gone through the night before. But he had to get up and go to his class. But what made it so bad was that he was the only guy in his fraternity who had a Saturday morning class. Everybody else got to sleep late after a heavy Friday night of fucking, sucking, and eating.
As Nick struggled into his pants and walked out into the hallway to the pay phone in the hallway, he wondered who it could be that was calling him. Especially since whoever it was didn't use his private line and was also calling so early in the morning. Nick picked up the dangling receiver and pressed it against his ear.
"Hello?" he said, somewhat apprehensive.
"Is this Nicholas Blake?" the voice on the other end demanded.
"Yes," Nick replied. Now he was worried. The voice sounded cold and authoritarian.
"This is Dean Smith. I know that it's Saturday, but I would like to speak to you in my office at ten o'clock."
Suddenly Nicky felt himself grow speechless. He felt every drop of strength go ebbing from his body and his heart fell to his stomach.
"Yes, Dean Smith. Certainly. Ten o'clock," Nick gasped in reply. His hand clutched nervously at the receiver.
"Fine," the Dean replied.
"But can you tell me what this is all about?" Nick pleaded. There was a short pause on the other end.
"Not now. I would rather not discuss it on the phone, Mr. Blake," Dean Smith replied coolly. "See you at ten." Then he hung up.
Nick stood there staring dumbfounded into the phone, his mouth hanging open.
"Who was it, Nick? You're all white," Bob asked casually as he passed by the telephone.
"It was Dean Smith. He wants to see me," Nick replied slowly. Bob looked at him curiously and scratched his groin thoughtfully.
"Hey, it sounds serious. Did he say what it's all about?" Bob asked.
"No. But he wants to see me this morning."
"But it's Saturday," Bob replied with a puzzled expression crossing his face.
"I know, Bob, but he's going to be in his office in the Main Building and he's expecting me at ten o'clock," Nick answered. He scratched his balls through the material of his pants and then ran his hands over his hairy chest.
"Well, shit. I'm just going to take a shower and go over there," Nick said to Bob as he shook his head. "There's no sense in delaying the inevitable."
Nick walked slowly back to his room. He grabbed a clean towel and struggled into the shower-room. Within minutes he was dressed and on his way to see Dean Smith.
As he walked down the huge corridor of the almost-empty Main Building, Nick could hear his shoes making clicking noises that bounced ominously off the walls. He hesitated as he approached the big oak and glass door to the Dean's office. He bit his fingernail, and then decided to take the plunge. He knocked loudly several times at the door.
"Come in," a voice called from the office inside.
Nick turned the knob and walked into the room.
"Hello, Mr. Blake. We've been expecting you," Dean Smith said as he stood up behind his over-sized mahogany desk.
Suddenly Nick felt like he was going to throw up. He staggered across the room nearly tripping over his feet and took a chair next to the Dean's desk. In the other chairs that encircled Dean Smith's desk sat Diane Sandeman, Mrs. Muldoon, and another bitchy-looking housemother, whom he had never met before.
"What was it that you wanted to see me about, Dean Smith?" Nicky asked, trying to sound innocent. But deep inside, he knew that it had something to do with Diane. And it was probably something pretty messy.
The little red-headed tart was sitting and weeping against her housemother's shoulder, dabbing her eyes every once in a while with a pink and yellow handkerchief, that was embroidered with little butterflies, elves, and daisies.
"Mr. Blake, Miss Sandeman has raised a complaint against you concerning an incident that allegedly took place in your fraternity house last night," Dean Smith stated with great solemnity. He tapped the eraser end of his yellow pencil menacingly against the green blotter on his desk as he stared at Nick.
"Oh, really?" Nick quipped out of desperation. He got the sinking feeling that his goose was cooked. He had the whole scene figured out. Diane had probably snitched on him.
"Is that all you can say, you beast!" Mrs. Muldoon roared angrily all of a sudden. She sat up angrily on the very edge of her chair and glared at Nick.
"Look! What is this, an inquisition or something?" Nick protested violently in response.
"Quiet, please!" the Dean demanded officiously.
In response, Nicholas leapt from his chair and began to pace nervously around the room. Then he turned to Diane and spoke.
"Diane! What in the hell is this all about?" he demanded pleadingly. The young whore turned and looked at him with tears flooding her eyes once again. She found herself unable to speak, and she burst into tears.
"Leave the poor girl alone, you pervert!" Mrs. Muldoon raged at him. She tore from her seat and rushed at him. Then she began to beat her bony fists against his chest.
"You beast! You awful man! How could you do such a thing to this poor innocent girl!" the old bat raved insanely.
Dean Smith jumped up and came out from behind his desk. He pulled Mrs. Muldoon's fists from Nick's face and led her sobbing back to her chair.
"Please, try to control yourself. After all, we have to hear Mr. Blake's side of the story too," Dean Smith said calmly. Then he glanced at Nicky.
"What? What are you talking about?" Nick protested as he shrugged, his muscular shoulders. He still felt like throwing up, for he knew very well what the good Dean was referring to. Diane had probably told them all that he had screwed her up the ass and shot his load. Nicky walked slowly across the office and took his seat. He sat there wringing his hands nervously as everyone in the room awaited his reply.
"Well, Mr. Blake? We're all waiting," the Dean remarked. He sat down in the red leather chair behind his desk and began to swivel back and forth imperiously, drumming his fingers impatiently on the green blotter.
"Confess, you monster!" Mrs. Muldoon screamed suddenly. Then she burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. Nick looked around the room rather dumbfounded by the whole crazy chain of events.
"What's going on here?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"AH right, Mr. Blake. Let's see if I can refresh your memory," Dean Smith announced. He stood up and began to pace back and forth next to his desk, looking sternly at Nick.
"Miss Sandeman was hysterical when she returned to her dormitory last night. When her housemother asked her what had happened, she confessed to having performed certain acts with you, Mr. Blake. Obscene acts," the Dean announced rather melodramatically.
"What?" Nicky said, swallowing hard. He felt a cold sweat break out all across his tense body.
"Don't try to deny it, young man," Diane's housemother warned. "None of my girls would ever he to me. They're all good girls!"
Nick nearly gagged when he heard the old witch speak. Suddenly Nicholas felt his anger welling up inside. He glared viciously at the housemother.
"Well, if Diane Sandeman is your definition of a good girl, then you're running a damn whorehouse!" he screamed at the startled woman.
"All right, Mr. Blake! That's enough!" the Dean bellowed angrily at him. Diane began to wail hysterically and weep copious tears that ran dramatically down her painted face.
"Well, I feel like I'm on trial here!" Nick yelled.
"Just maybe you are, young man!" the Dean snapped back at him. "Miss Sandeman claims that she was raped by you!"
"That's a fucking he!" Nick screamed. He stood up and ran across the floor to where Diane sat huddled next to her housemother, sniveling with self-pity.
"Diane! Look at me! What have you told these people!" Nick demanded to know. He grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her violently. At that, Mrs. Muldoon leapt from her seat and ran up to him, clawing and grabbing at his shirt.
"Don't you touch her, you beast!" the old woman screamed.
"Please! Please! Let's have some order here!" Dean Smith yelled across the room. He began banging a crystal paperweight noisily on the top of his desk to attract everyone's attention. Finally, Diane spoke up, getting up from her seat and looking tearfully around the room. She stared at Nicky and pouted, with tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
"I'll explain what happened," Diane announced painfully.
"Very well, Miss Sandeman," Dean Smith said calmly.
Then he looked at Nick and motioned for him to return to his seat. Nicky did so, sitting nervously on the very edge with his arms folded and a grave look crossing his handsome face.
"You see it was like this," the young coed began. Her voice was shaky. "Nicholas invited me to his fraternity house to watch the television."
"Yes, please go on," Dean Smith said thoughtfully.
"Well, pretty soon we were kissing and everything, and then-and then-" Diane stammered tearfully.
"Please, go on, Diane," Mrs. Muldoon encouraged the whorey young red-head from her seat.
"Oh, it was awful!" Diane wailed. Then she burst into tears once again.
"Please, Miss Sandeman. Try to calm yourself. We need to know all the details so that this matter can be settled justly," Dean Smith explained compassionately to her.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I see," Diane sniffed. She dabbed her eyes gently with her handkerchief.
Nick knew that the little tramp was really hard as nails. But she was putting on a first-class performance to gain the sympathy of everyone in the office.
"Well, then, all of a sudden, Nicky grabbed me, tore off my panties, and stuck-stuck-" she hesitated.
"Yes! Yes! Go on," Dean Smith demanded. Nick glanced at the Dean's groin and detected what looked like a stiffening cock inside his baggy trousers.
Shit, the fucking ass-hole is getting off on Diane's wild accusations! Nick thought to himself angrily.
"Then, then he stuck his penis into my bottom! All the way in and made me have sex that way!" Diane wailed. Then she once again burst into tears and began to shake uncontrollably. She clutched at her housemother's arm for support and buried her face into the older woman's dress.
"There! That proves it! He raped her!" Mrs. Muldoon screamed at Nicky, pointing an accusing finger, wiggling it up and down menacingly.
"She's lying! She made it all up!" Nick shouted. He jumped up from his chair and pounded his fists on the Dean's desk furiously. He felt the tendons of his neck grow taut and red as he got angrier and angrier.
The Dean motioned for Nick to calm down and return to his seat.
"Look! Everyone knows that she's a little whore! Why don't you ask her about the time she allowed the basketball team to screw her up the ass? Well? Ask her!" Nick screamed.
In response, Dean Smith began to beat his crystal paperweight furiously on the top of his desk.
"That's enough, Mr. Blake! Enough!" he yelled.
"All right, Miss Sandeman. You may leave now," the Dean said calmly. Diane stood up and was helped sobbing and shaking from the office with the assistance of her housemother.
"Mrs. Muldoon, you said that you had some information that might shed some light on this situation," the Dean said, looking at the witchy old woman as she sat prudishly in her chair. Nick stared at her, his eyes red with hatred.
"Yes, I do," Mrs. Muldoon began. "As you know, I'm very protective towards my girls at
Barclay House."
"Yes. Please go on," Dean Smith said. He sat back down in his chair behind the big desk.
"Well, I happen to know that this young man has been trying to sexually molest one of my girls, Gilda Mayhew, for nearly two years!" Mrs. Muldoon explained, trying to sound convincingly outraged. Nick could tell that the whole confrontation had excited the old bitch incredibly. Shit, her fucking wrinkled clit is probably standing on end by now! Nick mused.
"And what do you have to say to that, Mr. Blake?" Dean Smith asked judiciously.
"I say that all this is a bunch of bullshit!" he yelled. "My sex life is none of your damn business!"
"All right, Mr. Blake! I can see that you're not going to be cooperative about this-" the Dean snapped.
"I'm willing to be perfectly cooperative," Nick replied, "but so far I've heard nothing but lies."
"Are you denying that you had anal intercourse with Miss Sandeman?" Dean Smith asked seriously.
"No. I did. It's true. But 'Miss Sandeman' is the biggest whore on the whole Madison College campus, and everybody knows it. She loves to get screwed in the ass!" Nick shot back, his face almost purple with anger.
"Very well, Mr. Blake. Your opinion of Miss Sandeman is not of importance at the moment," Dean Smith announced gravely, "however, it's apparent that you actually did perform obscene acts with her. Therefore, I have no choice but to suspend you from the College."
Nick leapt from his chair and began thrashing his arms wildly overhead. He had known that he was going to get into trouble. But he had not thought that he could get expelled.
"But why? That's not fair!" he screamed.
"I'm glad to see that you've decided to do something reasonable about this young brute," Mrs. Muldoon remarked pompously as she rose to leave.
"Thank you for volunteering to help, Mrs. Muldoon," the Dean said. He rose and escorted the bitchy housemother to the door. She turned briefly and glared viciously as Nick stood helplessly in the middle of the office.
"Maybe this will teach you a lesson about molesting my girls, young man!" the witch cackled loftily.
"Fuck off," Nick replied. Then he flashed her the finger. Mrs. Muldoon turned abruptly and marched out the door, shocked by his brazen display of contempt.
Dean Smith closed the door and motioned for Nick to take his seat. He walked back to his desk and sat on the very edge of the top, fingering his yellow pencil and looking curiously at Nick.
"Well, Mr. Blake. What do you have to say for yourself?" the gray-haired man asked, rather condescendingly.
"I told you! Diane twisted it all around," Nick snapped. He wrung his hands nervously. Then he looked pleadingly into the Dean's face.
"Please, don't expel me! My parents will kill me!" Nick begged. He twisted his ass around nervously as he sat on the very edge of his seat, anxiously awaiting the Dean's next move.
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Blake, but it looks as though I have no other alternative," Dean Smith remarked rather coldly.
"But it's not fair!" Nick protested. The Dean did not reply, but simply sat on the corner of his desk looking curiously at Nick. Finally, he rose and began to pace slowly back and forth across the carpeting of his office, fingering his pencil.
"You see, Mr. Blake, having sexual intercourse on Madison College property is a very serious matter," the Dean said.
"Well, I don't remember reading anything against it in the rulebook," Nicky replied rather sarcastically. Yet at the same time, he knew he was right.
"Yes, I know, but that's beside the point. You see, not only did you force Miss Sandeman to have sex with you, but you-you" the Dean hesitated, refusing to look Nick in the face.
"What? Oh, I know. I fucked her up the ass. Is that it?" Nick asked with a smart-assed look crossing his face.
The Dean looked up at him and frowned.
"Yes, Mr. Blake! Sodomy! It's to be despised!" the older man roared suddenly. Then he marched briskly behind his desk and sat down in his chair, looking intently at Nick.
"Look, Dean Smith. I admit that I did it to Diane in the ass. But on the other hand, a lot of other guys have too," Nick stated truthfully.
"That's besides the point!" Dean Smith bellowed at him.
"Yeah. My only crime was getting caught. Fuck!" Nick shot back.
"All right, Mr. Blake! That's enough! Quite enough," Dean Smith bellowed. He drummed his yellow pencil fiercely against his desk.
Suddenly, Nick felt desperate. He knew that it would be all over if he were expelled from Madison. His family would wag their fingers and say, "We told you so!" They had always been on his back for being such a horny stud and always looking for a piece of ass. They said he was obsessed. And if he were tossed out of school, they would have their suspicions confirmed.
"Look, Dean Smith. Please don't kick me out of school. It's the only thing I've got right now!" Nick pleaded suddenly. His face looked in pain and he wrung his hands tensely as he sat in his seat staring desperately at the Dean.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Blake. But it's all your own fault," the Dean replied indifferently. He began shuffling through some papers that sat on his desk.
"Please! I'll do anything, sir! Anything!" Nick pleaded vociferously. He rose from his chair and walked right up to Dean Smith's desk, placing his nervous hands right on the edge and pressing them against it, hard. Finally, the Dean looked up at him and leaned back in his swivel chair.
"What was that, Mr. Blake?" Dean Smith said, placing his pencil in the corner of his mouth. Nick felt as though the bastard were teasing him. He knew that the pompous man was probably enjoying every moment of lording his power over him. Nick found that he had to suppress a strong inclination to belt the old fuck right in the face. But he recognized that if he did, all would be lost. Then he would never be able to convince him to change his mind.
"I said, sir, that I would do anything. Anything to stay in school! Please, sir. You've got to understand!" Nicky pleaded. All of a sudden, he almost felt like crying. He was really in a leaky boat up shit's creek, and his oar was about to snap.
"I understand, Mr. Blake, that you're a very irresponsible young man when it comes to sex. This isn't the first time that I've heard stories about you," the Dean stated matter-of-factly.
Nick looked at him curiously.
"Other stories?"
"Yes! Mrs. Muldoon has kept me well informed of your brazen attempts to seduce the girls at Barclay House, especially Gilda Mayhew, one of Madison College's top students!" Dean Smith chastised him.
"That cunt!" Nick growled through his gritted teeth.
"All right, Mr. Blake! That's enough!" the dean snapped. "That kind of attitude will get you no place."
"But she's the cause of all of this! If she would have let me screw her when I wanted to, I would never have messed around with Diane!" Nick blurted out, recognizing the truth of the matter. He felt the muscles of his body tensing up as he prepared to give up hope.
"Mr. Blake, let me ask you a question," Dean Smith remarked. "Did you come to Madison College to learn or to screw?" Nick was somewhat taken aback by the dean's words. He looked at him with a bewildered expression crossing his handsome face.
"Well, gosh, both, I suppose," Nick muttered after some consideration. He scratched his head.
"That's what I thought! Your attitude and your morals disgust me, Mr. Blake!" Dean Smith screamed crazily at him all of a sudden. Nick stared at the red-faced man with a look of genuine puzzlement, and shifted his ass nervously as he sat back down wearily. He bit his nails and stared at the dean.
"But wait a minute! Aren't you being unfair? Every young guy comes to college with sex and fucking on his mind!" Nick shouted back. "That's only natural!"
Dean Smith suddenly became calm. A light, somewhat sinister smile came to his parched, gray lips.
"You really think that you're something great, don't you, Mr. Blake?" Dean Smith snickered, fingering his pencil menacingly.
"Why?" Nick replied. Of course, the dean was right.
"Well, obviously you are-shall we say 'oversexed,'" the older man replied. Nick squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He was getting very peculiar vibes from the dean.
"So?" Nick responded arrogantly. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, stretching his lanky legs out in front of him.
"I mean that if you weren't such a 'stud,' as they say, you wouldn't be obsessed with having sex with Miss Sandeman and Miss Mayhew," Dean Smith observed somewhat presumptuously.
"Look, Dean Smith. Gilda and Diane get just as horny as I do. But that has nothing to do with my getting expelled. I just got caught," Nick said sadly.
Dean Smith placed his pencil to his lips and studied Nick's face carefully. Nick found himself growing tense under the dean's intense scrutiny and twisted edgily.
"You seem nervous, Mr. Blake," the dean commented. The bastard! Nick mused. He sat up on the edge of his seat and looked at the dean.
"Look. I said I would do anything to stay in school. That's the only thing that I'm nervous about," Nick replied truthfully.
The dean rose silently from where he sat in the chair behind his mahogany desk. He walked briskly across the floor to the door. He turned the lock with a quick flick of his wrist. Then he looked back at Nick and leaned against the door, staring at him curiously.
"Well then, Mr. Blake. You've told me that you'll do anything to stay here at Madison College. I'm going to give you that chance," Dean Smith remarked coolly.
Nick felt his heart begin to beat faster and faster.
"Yes, sir," he replied, getting increasingly apprehensive.
Dean Smith's behavior seemed to be getting more and more eccentric by the moment.
"All right then, Mr. Blake. Pull off those pants and let's see just how much of a stud you really are!" the older man blurted out suddenly.