Chapter 6: Sylvia Armitage

Sylvia Armitage, the college administrator, was enjoying a quiet afternoon. She had posted the new accommodation allocations. Of course there would be the usual problems with people that didn't want to change but it was impossible, she told herself, to do the job without upsetting somebody. There would be the usual queue of students complaining, she knew, but they would simply have to put up with it. It couldn't be done any other way.

Mrs Armitage was something of a legend on the campus. Still very attractive for her years, she combined a flirtatious manner towards the staff with displays of complete indifference to the students. She had a reputation as having been a bit of a ball breaker and certainly there was no sign of a Mr Armitage these days. It didn't worry Sylvia, she just got on with her job.

"I'm sorry Mr Gillstrom, there's really nothing I can do about it." Sylvia smiled up at Greg from her desk, closing the folder marked 'Study Allocations' firmly.

"But I've had a room to myself for a year or more, Mrs Armitage. I really don't want to have to share a study," Gregg was seriously upset by the prospect of having a flatmate.

"Well, no one does, Mr Gillstrom, I'm sure you realise that. And once places have been allocated, I really can't change them."

Greg was unconvinced but he knew how to make sure. He took the red jewel from his pocket. It caught the light from the window, drawing Sylvia's gaze towards it. "That's a very striking ruby," she began. Her eyes, glazed over as Greg turned the jewel backward and forward, until she was sitting, passively, staring straight ahead of her, making no attempt to move.

Gregg picked up the Study Allocations folder and found his own room. Mrs Armitage made no move to stop him. There were plenty of other rooms that didn't seem to be allocated a room share. He wagged an admonishing finger at the blankly staring Mrs Armitage. "Naughty, naughty," he said. "You could have changed things couldn't you?"

"Yes," she said in a curiously flat tone, "I suppose that I could have."

Gregg made the alterations himself but he certainly wasn't finished with Mrs Armitage. "I think you owe me a little repayment for my inconvenience," he said. "Why don't we go through there?"

Gregg pointed to Sylvia's stationery cupboard and Mrs Armitage got slowly to her feet and walked towards it. Gregg was able to enjoy the tightness of her skirt as she stepped by him and he gave her an encouraging pat on the backside.

Inside the stationery closet, Gregg wasted no time in bending Sylvia forward over a shelf. She made no objection as he reached around her to unfasten the belt of her skirt or as he unzipped it at the back to let it fall to the floor around her ankles. Gregg was breathing heavily, standing close up against her, feeling the swell of her buttocks beneath her panty hose as he ran his hands across her. He leant forward and hissed in her ear, "Open your blouse, bitch, and pull down your knickers."

"Yes, Sir," Sylvia muttered, obeying him readily but with rather mechanical movements.

Gregg, aroused as much by her compliance as by her nakedness, chuckled as he unfastened his own trousers and pressed his stiffening cock into the fleshy cleft between Sylvia's buttocks. As he pushed forward against her and penetrated her cunt, she reacted with little more than a soft, "Mmm," but Gregg was by now determined that she should pay for making his life more difficult than it could have been. His hands found her breasts, pulling aside the cups of her brassiere, his fingers sought out her nipples, squeezing and pinching and changing her quiet noises to ones of pain and discomfort.

Finally he came, his jism spurting into her and then, as he pulled back, running out of her cunt to slide down the inside of her thighs. Gregg grabbed Mrs Armitage by one nipple and pulled her around to face him. "Kneel down, slut," he ordered. "And lick me off."

"Yes, sir," Sylvia said, her face as blankly submissive as before. She got to her knees doing as he had told her until he was satisfied and told her to stop.

Gregg looked down at Sylvia Armitage as she knelt on the floor of the stationery closet with her blouse open, tits hanging out of her ripped bra, her skirt, tights and panties around her ankles and her face streaked with his cum, Gregg felt he had been adequately repaid. "Thanks Mrs Armitage," he said. "I am glad that we managed to work that out."

He left the administrators office, with his hand in one pocket stroking the ruby red jewel. Its power could not be questioned, now, Gregg knew and it was obviously his destiny to use it the strength that the Swami Pradesh had given him. And as for the sexual desire that seemed to be part of that strength; well, he was happy to reap the benefits of that too.