Chapter 5

I lay on my side with my knees pulled up and my face sunk into the foam pillow. A position I usually slept in when not thrashing about during a recurring nightmare. I was comfortable, but someone kept shaking my shoulder. I shrugged and snuggled under the cover, but it didn't stop. Why is Mom waking me? That's what my sleep-filled muddled brain demanded to know. I wasn't ready to wake up. But the shaking persisted.

My left eye, the one not buried in the pillow, squinted open. The light confused me. I blinked several times. It didn't feel like morning. Sleepy and bewildered, I rolled onto my back and looked up dumbly at the face leaning over me. It didn't look like my mother.

I jumped to a sitting position.

"What are you doing here?" I cried out. "What time is it? What's going on?"

Leia waited while the sleepiness left me. I stared at her bottom lip. It was purplish, puffy, and split. Dried blood was smeared on her chin. There was swelling around her left eye and the discolored skin showed the beginnings of a shiner. It was going to be a doozie.

I scooted back and leaned against the headboard while tugging on the bedcover. It didn't budge. Leia was sitting on it. Grabbing the furthest corner from her, I flipped it over my chest and hugged it with both hands.

"Who were those guys at the frat house?" Leia asked.

"I thought you knew them."

"Not those guys. The other guys."

Still sleepy, I tried to make sense of the conversation. It sounded like an Abbott and Costello Who's on First? routine. I pondered her question. "You mean the three who came later?"

"Yeah, the cute boy and the thugs."

"I don't know them." I tried to recollect what had happened and then said, "I think they called the cute one Angelo. I don't know the other boys' names."

"Do you know Angelo?"

"No, I told you I don't know him ... them ... any of them. They came into the frat house and then a fight broke out and I ran. I was scared."

"Some fight. When I got there my friends were lying on the floor moaning. It was five against three and they got the shit beat out of them. Jimmy was out cold."

"Jimmy?"

"Yeah, I went out with him a few times. He's the one I set up your party with." Leia chuckled but immediately winced and gently patted her split lip.

"Oh, I remember. He was the one in the black shirt."

Leia saw me staring at her face. Her eyebrows furrowed. "You sure you don't know them?"

"No, how could I? They aren't students of mine. I never saw them before in my life. Why?"

"Because the assholes hit me."

"They hit you? Why?"

"The boy you called Angelo wanted to know who you were and where you lived. I guess he was hot for you. The big goons too. They looked very interested."

I thought back to the lustful stares of the two big guys and panicked. "You didn't tell them where I lived, did you?" I clutched the edge of the bedcover to my mouth, chewing on it. My whole body shook.

"They didn't wanna pay so I didn't. I told them to go fuck themselves. And then, after Angelo asked me again, I spit in his face. He nodded to one of the big guys who hit me. I still didn't tell them nothin' so he hit me again."

By now I was petrified. "Did you tell them?"

"No fuckin' way! I made up a name and phony address. They can go to hell. No one hits me and gets away with it." Then her eyes narrowed. "Sure you don't know them?"

I don't. I swear. If I did, why would they ask you who I was?"

Leia's eyes shifted up and to the left, and then settled on me again. "Yeah, I guess so." She stood and walked out of my bedroom without another word.

I looked at the clock. It was 2:20 a.m., the middle of the night. I turned on my end table lamp and got out of bed. Walking to the door in a daze, I flipped the overhead light switch off. And then, after a detour to empty my bladder, I returned to bed and shut off the lamp. I stared into the darkness trying to put all the pieces together. I was afraid of Leia, but the two huge boys terrified me more. And Leia would have offered me to them for a price. The frat boys were bad enough, but they were simply college kids out for some fun. But those other guys...

Eventually, sleep overcame me.

I awoke in a cold sweat with my bedcover tangled at my feet. It had been two days since Leia paid me an unexpected middle-of-the-night visit in my bedroom after she was confronted by the boy named Angelo and his two huge buddies. After my assault, I often had nightmares. The doctors called it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. The horrific dreams had always been Leia, Joan, Jennifer, and Heather beating me up. However, for the past two nights, the big guys from the frat house were hitting me in my nightmare while Leia and her friends stood nearby laughing, pointing at me, and yelling things such as, "Beat the shit out of her" and "Fuck her up the ass."

The current nightmare was very traumatic and I sat on the side of the bed with my forearms resting on my thighs and my head down. My long hair fell over my face and was sucked into my mouth with each deep breath. I was panting, hyperventilating. Some of my blonde hairs stuck to my sweaty face.

I turned to the clock and brushed the hair off my eyes. It was only 8:30 a.m. I needed to see my psychiatrist immediately, but he didn't open until 10:00 a.m. on Mondays. I dialed his office anyway and left a desperate message with his answering service.

After showering and getting ready for the day, I sat in the kitchen drinking my morning coffee. The front door opened and slammed shut. I dropped the cup and jumped out of my seat, knocking the chair backwards onto the floor. The cup smashed when it hit the table and coffee splashed me, soiling my shirt and shorts.

"Wow, what a mess."

I turned quickly to see Joan shaking her head. I stepped to the side to see around her.

Joan looked over her shoulder and said, "What are you looking at?"

"Um, nothing. I just thought Leia would be with you."

"She went on a trip a couple days ago. She'll be back soon enough. I'll tell her you miss her." Joan's laugh was pure evil.

"No, don't. I..." Joan laughed harder at my fluster.

"What's with you and those guys at the frat house?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Some guys are looking for Leia. They beat up Jimmy. Shit, they tortured him until he gave them her name and address. One guy held him down while another pushed his finger back until it broke." Joan shuddered. "He told them what they wanted to know after they broke two fingers. Then they went to Leia's house but she wasn't there. Her old lady told them she took a trip, but they didn't believe her. One of the fuckers pulled a gun and threatened her. When Bruno leapt at the guy, he shot him dead."

"They killed her dog?!"

"Yeah. You should see poor old Mrs. Walker now. She really loved that animal. I guess you're gonna have to take his place. For an old lady, Mrs. Walker sure likes a lot of sex, but she's too old and ugly for anyone but a dog to do her." Joan laughed again. "Except you."

I hung my head knowing there was nothing I could say to alter my future.

"But that's not why I'm here," Joan said. "It's 'bout Professor Rogers."

My head shot up. "John? What about him?" I disliked the man.

"He's gonna fail me."

"I don't think it'll help if I spoke to him. You're going to have to--"

"I don't want you to speak to the bastard. Did you know he has the hots for you?"

"That's absurd." But I knew it to be true. He was always leering at me and undressing me with his eyes.

"Oh yeah?" Joan snickered. "You should have seen his face when I told him I could make you have sex with him."

"Oh god, you didn't!"

"He said I'd get an "A" and not have to show up for no more fuckin' classes."

"Oh please, I have to work with him," I begged. "We're in the same department. He'll probably brag to everyone about it. I'll be ruined."

Joan pantomimed a person playing the violin so I stopped pleading.

"Go change," Joan said. "Put on a skirt and a clean blouse. Be quick, he's waiting."

"Where are we going?"

"To the college. He's teaching today."

"Oh god, no! Not there! Can't we do it here?" To this day I'm still amazed how easily I accepted their orders.

"He wants to do it there. C'mon, he said not to be late. Go get dressed, and put on some more make-up. Hurry up."

When I was ready, I found Joan sitting on the couch in the living room. She had me stand in the middle of the room while she slowly walked around me. Even though she was behind me, I felt her eyes on my body. Making a clucking sound, she said, "Hmm, hmm, Rogers is gonna love that sweet ass." I blushed and hung my head, feeling like a side of beef.

We drove to the university in Joan's car. It was just under two miles so we were there in no time. We walked in silence as she led the way. To my chagrin, we passed several of my colleagues who were surprised to see me on campus since I wasn't teaching that summer session. Most asked me how I was feeling. If any recognized Joan as one of the students I had claimed assaulted me, they didn't show it.

We entered the Liberal Arts building and I followed Joan to Professor Rogers' office. Like mine, it was small with a desk and chair, two visitor chairs, and a small bookcase and file cabinet. Joan leaned against the wall staring at me. It made me extremely uncomfortable. She knew why I was there and I wondered what dirty thoughts were going through her mind. I stood away from her, my eyes looking everywhere but at her. But I felt her eyes on me. I jumped when I heard the click of the door opening and quickly turned to see Professor Rogers enter and shut the door behind him.

"Well I'll be damned," he said. "I didn't believe you."

"I told you," Joan said to him. And then she turned to me. "You're going to do whatever Professor Rogers wants, right?" I looked from one to the other but didn't speak. "Aren't I right, Miss Flemming?" There was annoyance in her voice.

"Yes," I said softly with my eyes lowered.

"I mean anything," Joan said. "Whatever he wants. He can fuck you or get a blowjob or anything. Isn't that right, Miss Flemming?" Her tone was condescending.

"Yes," I said louder, but with my eyes still downcast.

"Do you believe me now, Professor Rogers?"

I looked up to see him staring at me and nodding his head enthusiastically.

"Okay, then I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Y'all have fun now," Joan said and chuckled as she left the office, shutting the door behind her.

John Rogers and I stared at each other for at least half a minute. No words were spoken. He undressed me with his eyes again, but now blatantly as he licked his chapped lips. John was nearing fifty, a good twenty years older than me. His thin hair was combed from one ear all the way to the other one. It looked ridiculous, but even worse when a windy day flipped it aside to uncover his shiny bald head and leave his too long hair hanging limply over one ear. His pudgy face had a blotchy, reddish complexion as if he had just run an exhaustive marathon. Not that he could run a marathon. He was at least fifty pounds overweight causing him to wheeze and breathe heavily at the slightest exertion. He tried to mask his flabby double-chin with a goatee that was never trimmed evenly. Even his dark, horned-rimmed glasses were unflattering. Suspenders held up his navy slacks because the waist of his pants was under his big belly and no belt would hold them up. His pale blue short-sleeve shirt was open at the collar, the armpits dark from sweat.

"Are you really going to do this?" he asked.

I nodded, staring at the floor.

"And you'll do anything I want?"

I nodded again.

"Take your blouse off."

My eyes met his, but quickly darted away. He disgusted me and I couldn't stand his superior leer. I had been his equal, or better. But no longer. My hands undid a button at a time until my blouse was open all the way to my skirt, and then I yanked the shirttails out and opened the rest. My eyes watered as I slid the blouse off and let it dangle from my hand.

"Now the bra." His voice was raspy.

I glanced around and then took the few steps to the desk where I laid my blouse down. Fighting back my tears, I removed the bra and placed it on top of my blouse. The chill from the air conditioner caused my nipples to stiffen and I fought to keep my arms at my sides.

Still staring at the floor, I suddenly saw John's feet as he walked up to me. When he was standing close enough for me to smell him, his right arm moved. My eyes rose with his hand until it stopped, suspended in front of my breast with his fingers spread. I looked up to his face and then back to his hand. When he cupped my left tit, I winced but didn't pull away. His chubby fingers squeezed the pliant flesh. I looked up again and his eyes locked on mine. I guess he was waiting for me to tell him to stop, but when I didn't he grabbed my other breast. Soon he was feeling me up and flicking my nipples with his thumbs.

John cupped the back of my head and did something I hadn't expected. He pulled my mouth to his. His tongue pushed against my lips but I kept them pressed tightly together. Kissing was so intimate. All I thought he wanted was sex.

Backing away with a scowl, he said, "What's the problem?"

I knew I had made a mistake.

It was too humiliating to answer, so I leaned forward and placed my lips against his. When his tongue probed, I opened my mouth. I felt like retching, but managed to rub my tongue against his. He held the back of my tilted head while his open mouth moved all over mine, drooling spittle onto my chin. All the while he was squeezing my breast with his free hand. It hurt! The man was not gentle. It was not lovemaking. It was unadulterated lust.

The hand holding the back of my head slid down my back. Feeling his fingers on my skin gave me the creeps and I cringed, but I kept kissing him. What choice did I have? When his hand reached my ass, he paused a moment and then squeezed. And then he grabbed my ass with both hands, pulling my crotch to his as he ground his hard cock against me.

Abruptly stepping back, John said excitedly, "Get the rest of your clothes off. Quick."

I wiped my wet chin with the back of my hand and stared at Professor Rogers' face. My eyes begged for mercy, but his lust-filled eyes and the way he licked his lips gave me no hope. I kicked my sandals off, and then opened the button on my skirt and lowered the zipper. Taking a deep breath and letting the air out slowly, I pushed my skirt over my hips and let it fall to my feet. I stood in front of my old, fat colleague in only panties while he ogled my crotch. I wanted to flee more than anything, but I did as I was told. I pushed my panties down and stepped out of them, placing them and my skirt on the desk.

John squatted to pick up my sandals and then, huffing as he stood, scooped up my clothes off the desk. He opened the bottom drawer of his file cabinet and stuffed my clothing between some folders. I felt very vulnerable now that my clothing was out of reach. I couldn't help it and covered my crotch with both hands.

John picked up the scissors from his desk. I jumped back in alarm. "What are you going to do?" I screamed in panic.

John held the scissors up and snipped the air several times. "Cut your hair."

One hand remained covering my crotch, but the other flew to my head. "No! Why are you going to do that?"

"Not that hair," he said with disdain. And then he pointed the scissors at my groin. "That hair."

I looked down and gasped, and then my head shot up. "Please don't."

"Joan said anything, and that's what I want to do. I don't know what Joan has over you, but unless you do everything I say I'm going to tell her you didn't keep your end of the agreement. Is that what you want?"

My eyes were pleading again, but it was like begging a stone wall. I hung my head and shook it from side to side. This time I couldn't keep the tears from falling. I continued to wipe them, but more followed.

John pulled one of the visitor chairs away from his desk and told me to sit. I did. He then retrieved the wastebasket from under his desk and brought it over. I moved my leg outward when he nudged it, and then did the same with my other leg after a kick.

John stared at my pussy, licking his lips in his disgusting manner, and then he grabbed the edge of the desk. He grunted as he dropped to a knee and then, with another grunt that sounded like a sick animal, plopped onto his fat ass between my spread legs. He told me to slide to the edge of the chair and, after I did, he placed the wastebasket under my pussy. It was so humiliating for him to sit between my widely spread legs.

I cringed when his fingers pinched a clump of pubic hair, and then closed my eyes when the scissors came near. I heard the snip and had to open my eyes. I saw my dark blonde hairs between his fingers right before he dropped them into the wastebasket. And then he clipped more, and more, and more. Soon most of the pale skin of my vulva was exposed through the unevenly trimmed hairs. John had me scoot forward until part of my ass hung over the edge of the chair. He lifted my feet and placed them on his shoulders. And then he trimmed lower. I sat there, naked with my feet on his shoulders and my legs widely splayed while he snipped my pubic hair off. I don't know what was worse, his cutting my pubic hair, his touching me there, or him staring at my obscenely exposed pussy. I had to close my eyes when he brushed the loose hairs off with his fingertips.

John examined my pussy. That's the only way I can describe it. He was acting like Jedi had and I wondered if it was John's first time too. He pried my labia apart, slid his finger up and down the slit, shoved his finger into my pussy, diddled my clit, and pressed his thumbs on either side of my clit to coax the little pearl out of its hood. While doing so, he noticed his watch. John hesitated and then brought his hand to his nose and smelled his fingers.