Cbarton
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The Temple of Androcon
Chapter 6
“Lit-eral Invasion“
Chapter 6
“Lit-eral Invasion“
Dr. Cyril Moynihan sat behind his desk in the lecture hall, shaking his head. The summer session was about to begin, and all the headaches it always brought. Most of the students attending could care less about the classroom material and were more concerned with making nightly arrangements with each other. He wondered why he even bothered in the summer. If it wasn’t for being selected as the Chair of the Literature department as such a prestigious university such as Viscount, he would find a better way to spend his summer. At least, during this summer, he was able to teach in depth on his love, classic Irish literature, to those interested enough or willing to join the class.
He was fortunate to have a great support staff. Katet, his senior grad student, was nearly finished with her thesis and had become a very popular instructor within the department. Later today, he would meet with the new Fellow, a French post-graduate student by the name of Mimmette Landreaux, who would be filling a needed void within the department as an online researcher. She was recruited for her skills to search through multiple sources to make sure Master’s and Doctorate theses were not being filled with plagiarism, a growing problem on many campuses these days. He also hoped she would be able to assist him in some more academically challenging projects that he was preparing to start.
Cyril looked over the class as they filed in for the morning session. About half of the class was serious literature students. Another fourth, vaguely interested. The rest were clocking in time to meet some “general ED” requirement as decreed by the university to force the students to be “better-rounded.” A noble, if altruistic ideal, but it did help his department meet their enrollment quotas.
Cyril had many concerns about this group. First of all, this last fourth of his class seemed to be more interested in texting each other in class than paying attention to the material. Nothing new there, except the looks they seemed to give each other were different than the ones similar students had done in the spring semester. He also noted a common characteristic. All of the young women in the class, six in number, all wore a similar ankle bracelet on their left leg. Hard for any male not to notice, especially in the very warm weather that they experienced here at Viscount during the summers, with all the short shorts and miniskirts in full display. But what caught his eye was the charm on the anklets. They all had the same one on them. It was either a gold or silver feather design. He was not aware of any new fad or such that would create such a similar interest among the young co-eds on campus, but it seemed harmless enough.
The class went per usual. Cyril gave his customary brilliant insight to O’Neill’s “Long Day’s Journey into Night,” although the students seemed to have little interest in the classic novel. As class ended, he gave out the assigned text reading to them and they all filed out of the class. All but one. He recognized her as being Heather Royce. As opposed to others in the class, she seemed to take a serious interest in the course since she was working on a minor in literature. He watched her purposefully walk toward his desk and take a seat at the desk right in front of his. Her eyes and pace showed purpose, so Cyril made sure he gave her his full attention. Not that it was difficult to do. Heather was a striking young woman, and today as no exception. The blue bandana print tied-off blouse and denim miniskirt she was wearing made her figure stand out even more than usual. “Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Royce?”
“Please, call me Heather, Dr. Moynihan,” she replied. Cyril did his best not to react to the breathy, almost sultry tone she had used when she spoke. It was a far cry from the tone she normally used in class. “I would like to arrange a time to meet with you, outside of the classroom,” she continued, slowly brushing her hair from her eyes as she spoke. “I need your, shall we say, ‘expert’ assistance in a matter of pressing importance.” Heather slowly crossed her legs as she aimed her steel gray eyes right at his.
“If you contact Janice in the literature office, I’m sure we can arrange a time during my office hours for us to meet. What is this pressing matter of which you speak?” Cyril was still stunned by her manner as he replied and sought to gain some control back. “How pressing is it?”
“I am, you could say, part of a group seeking to create study guides and note supplements for various classes throughout the university. I have been asked to get together with you to work on some of these for various courses within the Literature department, “Heather answered. “Since it is a private ‘endeavor’ outside the university, it may be more appropriate to meet in a location off campus. A place where we can reach a mutual understanding over the aims and goals of the group I am working with.”
Maybe he was being affected by her outfit, maybe the heat of the summer day, or maybe something else. Cyril had the sense that, by the tone and manner of how she was speaking, Heather was almost trying to imply a hidden meaning behind her words. A double entendre? A ‘come on”? Just a flirtation? Cyril wasn’t able to tell for sure. Cyril decided to launch a trial balloon to see if his suspicions were real or imagined. “It would need to be some sort of public setting. To prevent gossip and the like from others, if you know what I mean…”
Heather seemed to think for a moment, then changed her expression into a mild sort of pout that only enhanced her facial attraction. She slowly stood and walked toward his desk. “Ahh, since when have you ever feared the gossip trails here. Besides, a little gossip might spruce up your image here on campus,” she purred as she approached the desk in an almost cat-like manner. She leaned onto the desktop and said, “Trust me, my partners and I can make this arrangement very pleasing for you.”
Cyril was fighting an urge he had never felt on campus before as Heather leaned over the desk, both palms down and planted wide apart, as if she was offering a view down her blouse as a bargaining chip. Her voice almost had a siren-like quality that was pulling him in. He was just about to speak when he heard the familiar ‘click-clack’ of shoes enter the room and come his way.
“Dr. Moynihan? I need you to look these papers over for me…” It was the familiar voice of Katet Casad, his chief graduate assistant. The sound of her voice jolted him out the seemingly well-spun spell that Heather’s voice was creating on him. “Am I interrupting anything?” Katet asked as she reached the desk.
“No, not at all,” Cyril gratefully replied. “As I said, Ms. Royce,” Cyril continued, now having his full wits about him, “contact Janice in the office and we can arrange a time to meet and discuss this request of yours.” He watched as Heather silently, but slowly straightened herself up, turned on her heel, and walked out of the lecture hall with the same feline manner she had approached the desk earlier.
“What was that all about?” Katet asked, a very puzzled look on her face. She knew that look and walk, and started to wonder if the summer heat has just altered her boss’s ethical standards.
“Not sure. It started as a request to meet with me to get assistance for a new note taking service, like maybe getting my permission or outlines early. But, it felt like she was wanting more than that, if you know what I mean. Very strange. Been ages since a student came onto me like that, and never during a summer session. Anyway, what did you need me to look over?”
“It’s the final paperwork on Mimmette. It could have waited until later, but for some reason felt the urge to bring them now. Looks like it was a good thing I did,” she said as she winked and struck a humorously striking pose. “Now I have you all to myself!” she claimed, batting her eyelashes at him. Cyril laughed loudly as he stood. They both had a good laugh as they left the room and headed toward the offices to prepare to meet the new research assistant.
It was about a quarter past one when Cyril heard a familiar rapping on his office door. He looked up to see Katet escorting a young woman into his office. He smiled as he recognized her from the interviews earlier that year. “Ms. Landreaux, welcome to Viscount University!” he exclaimed as he rose to meet her, offering her a chair. “How was your flight across the pond? Did it go well?”
“Oh oui! It was very pleasant until after the landing and all the scrutiny the security men gave me.” she said in a very tired voice. She took a very poised position in the chair, adjusting her white blouse and blue skirt into a very lady-like position. Even though they had met during the intense interview sessions for the fellowship, she still felt the need to create a positive first impression today.
Cyril was a little taken aback at her reply. “Scrutiny? Any idea why that
was?”
Mimmette smirked gently with her reply, “They either thought I was a threat,
or they were acting like the standard American man trying to get as close to me as they could!”
Cyril could see the humorous glint in her eyes. “Is that good or bad?” he replied back, giving her a playful wink.
Showing mock outrage, Mimmette quickly decided she liked the brogue-laden banter her new boss was providing. “C’est mauvais! I am not a threat!” she retorted as she, Cyril and Katet had a good laugh.
“Mimi, can I get you anything while you and Dr. Moynihan work on your arrangements?” Katet asked. Mimi seemed to look a bit worn, but she was not sure if it was from jet lag or something else.
“Some water would be just fine, Katet. That would be very kind of you.” Mimi replied. The past 48 hours had been long ones for her and any sort of refreshment would be a godsend to her at the moment. Dr. Manyhands and I have much to discuss.”
Cyril waited for Katet to step out before he started. “First of all, we need to work on my name. It is not ‘Many hands.’ It is ‘Moin-ee-hahn,’ ‘See-ril Moin-ee-hahn.’” It may have been a small thing, but he had been the butt of many a joke based on American slaughter of the pronunciation of his name in college, so it was important, if only to him.
Mimi blushed. “I am so sorry. Let me try again. ‘Sureal Moan-e-han’,” was the best she could muster in her very tired state.
“Closer, almost perfect on my surname. Let’s work on getting the other right. I prefer to work on a first name basis with my students and fellows. Not ‘Sureal’ as in the art style. ‘See-ril,’ kind of like…” Cyril quickly scanned his mind and room to come up with an object to use for association. Suddenly it came to him and he reached into the bottom desk drawer and pulled out the box of Cheerios™ he kept in there for days he didn’t have time to eat breakfast at home. “Like this ‘see-ree-al’ that you eat for breakfast.” Cyril beamed at his cleverness.
Suddenly, the light came to Mimi’s eyes. “Oh, of course, how foolish of me, sir. Cheerio! Cheerio Moynihan! Sometimes English is so hard that we miss the easy things in trying to learn it!” Mimi’s eyes gleamed so brightly at her ‘enlightenment’ on his name that he didn’t have the heart to try to correct her. “And please, call me Mimi. Unless you feel that we have to keep things so formal, then you may continue to call me Mimi.”
“No, we like to keep things informal here, Mimi, “ Cyril replied as Katet returned with Mimi’s water. “So, have you made your living arrangements yet? All settled in?” Cyril sought to quickly change the subject. Katet would be giving him enough grief the first time Mimi called him ‘Cheerio’ and wanted to forestall it as long as he could.
Mimi’s face darkened as quickly as it lit up a few minutes earlier. “Non! Mon appartement is not ready. The propriétaire suddenly wants more money each month than was agreed upon over the telephone! Ennuyeux!”
Katet’s face quickly turned to Mimi’s. “That’s horrid! Where are you staying now?” Katet suddenly had visions of when she first came to campus and the horrors she had trying to get housing.
Mimi sighed, her shoulders sagging. “One of the hotel rooms in the Student Union last night. Now, je ne sais pas où…” Katet was able to understand that. The rooms in the Student Union were not only pricey, but were not very quiet this time of year with all the athletic camps and such going on.
“Fortunately, the University has resources to help with this. Katet and I will get someone on it right away. Had you signed a lease for that ah, appartement yet? “ The last thing Cyril wanted was a homeless Literature Fellow and international student without a place to stay, especially now with all the summer students and the tourists now arriving.
“ Non. I was to do that before he doubled the rate and now I cannot afford it!” Fire now shown through Mimi’s eyes as she remembered the argument the night before with the landlord. She would have taken the next flight back to Paris if she hadn’t fully committed herself to this Fellowship. “Now I feel as if I have no choices.”
Katet jumped back into the conversation before Cyril could reply. “Just leave everything to me, Mimi. I grew up here and I know how the ‘system’ works around here. I’m sure I can help you find a decent place in a day or two.” Katet was already thinking of a plan to help Mimi out.
“But where will I sleep tonight? Where may I put toutes mes choses?”
Cyril spoke up next. “That will be easy enough. I have a spare bedroom in my house. It is on a separate floor from mine, so you’ll have all the privacy you’ll need. Where are the items you brought with you from Paris stored?”
“They will not arrive for another week. I wanted to get in my appartement and be able to plan where to put everything before it all arrived.”
“That’s good,” Katet interjected. “I know a place here in town where you can store all of that cheaply in case we have trouble finding you a place right away.”
Mimi gave Katet a startled look, “Cheaply??? What is this ‘cheaply?’ What do bird sounds have to do with my precious heirlooms? And trouble? What trouble do you mean? Are there no other places to stay here?” Confusion started to take over her mind as she began to imagine birds landing all over her clothes and personal items or being cast into the streets.
Katet quickly replied, “It means “not spending a lot of money to use.”
A smile slowly crossed Mimi’s face again. “Ahhh, you mean peu coûteau?
“Yeah, something like that,” Katet replied, cursing her luck at only taking one year of French in high school. It was looking like full communication with Mimi was going to be a challenge. “And by ‘trouble’, I mean that I don’t know what type of place you were wanting and what price range you can spend. Once I know that, it will be much easier to search.”
“Now that that is all settled,” Cyril said, showing a smile of triumph, “we can move on to other things. Mimi, have you eaten lunch yet?” He had noticed that his Cheerios™ box was being eyed very hungrily by Mimi.
Mimi sighed once more, “I have not eaten since I landed yesterday evening.”
Cyril rose from his chair. Walking towards Mimi, he said, “My my, we must fix that right away. Katet,” he continued as he turned his face toward his assistant, “I shall take our new Literature Fellow and Reference Enforcer to lunch. When we get back, the two of you can get more acquainted and begin the quest for her housing.”
“Sounds good,” Katet answered. “While you two eat, I’ll start to get what info I can on apartments and lofts.” She then turned to face Mimi. “After you eat, you can tell me where you had this previous arrangement with. I’m sure that this ‘gentleman’ would not like word to get out that he takes advantage of international students. We get many here and he might lose a lot of business if word gets out.”
Mimi stood up and walked first toward Katet and gave her a big hug, saying “Ahha! Very shrewd! I like the way you think! We will get along very well together!” Then turning to face Cyril, she added, “And as for you, you may have the honor of escorting me to my first truly American meal. Just promise me one thing?”
Wanting to seem understanding and civil, Cyril replied, “And that would be?”
“On many advertisements flying here and in my room, I keep hearing about this food I would like to try. I am curious to find out about these things called ‘Buffalo wings.” I have NEVER seen a buffalo of any sort with wings,” she asked with a very curious look on her face.
Katet did her best to stifle a laugh and said, “Take her to Dante’s. They have the best. It’s only 5 blocks from here.”
Cyril gallantly offered his arm, “Dante’s it is then. Shall we, Ms. Landreaux?”
“Yes, we shall,” Mimi said as she took his arm. As they walked through the doorway, she continued. “So, Dr. Chee-ree-oh Money-hands, I shall learn about how they get wings from a buffalo as I learn about The Divine Comedy??
Katet called out to her, “I’m sure you’ll find Dante’s Buffalo Wings come from one of the inner circles, Mimi.” As they left the office, she smiled and shook her head. To no one in particular, she commented, “Somehow, I think just watching will be a Divine Comedy …”
Heather trembled as she knelt. The cement floor felt icy cold to her bare legs as she waited. She had failed in her assignment from Kelly, the High Priestess and Queen of Lord Androcon. All spring she had performed their biddings well, but now she feared what retribution would fall upon her. She had heard the stories of others: frigidity, nympho-maniacal attractions to guys she would not give the time of day to, unquenchable desires, and, worst of all, unplanned conception. She tried to create some sort of argument on her behalf, but she could thing about was how she had failed him.
Suddenly, the door to the room swung open. Androcon, in all his virile beauty and pure masculinity, entered the room with Kelly at his side. She was almost iridescent in her semi-sheer white gown as she stood at Androcon’s side. He pointed the ruby scepter at her and in a deep, almost thunderous voice, commanded, “My Queen has told me of your attempted actions today. You have served us well in the past, so we felt you were ready for such an important task. Did you not prepare yourself as you were instructed?”
“Oh yes, Lord Androcon, I did exactly as instructed. Everything was going perfectly until…until…” Kelly started to tremble again as she tried to finish. Her fear was mixed with desire as she could feel the urge to do anything, yes anything to please her master.
“Until the graduate assistant interrupted you?” Kelly offered as she finished the sentence for the poor girl. She could feel the fear coming from her and did sympathize with her. Heather was one of their best young succubae and had secured the services of three other departments last spring. A case of bad timing was bound to happen sooner or later, but they needed to know if Heather knew the importance of her assigned duty. “You do realize how important the Literature department is to us?”
Heather bowed her head. “Yes, I do. At least 2 literature classes are required for graduation. If we seduce an instructor to join the Temple, we then have access to the exams, quizzes, and other class work needed to pass those courses. Then, all members of the temple will be able to complete them with high marks with little effort so they can focus on more important things, such as serving Lord Androcon.” She moaned softly, “And now, I have failed the Temple. “ She slowly lifted her head to look at Androcon and begged, “Please, let me try again! I almost had him, I’m sure! Please give me another chance! Don’t punish or banish me, PLEASE!” Panic now consumed her mind. The last thing she could bare was banishment. The past school year being a part of the Temple was more powerful than she could have ever imagined and was even entering grad school, craving more of the delights and pleasures it had to offer.
“Heather,” Kelly replied, using as soothing a tone as possible, “We have discovered that Dr. Moynihan was not the weak link that we initially thought. It seems in our preparations, we overlooked a detail or two. You entered a near impossible situation. Therefore, Androcon, in his mercy and just wisdom, has decided upon a new assignment for you. One that you, and only you, can accomplish.
Heather felt a wave of relief overcome her, then confusion. She wanted to jump up, hug Kelly, and then throw herself at Androcon to show him thanks. But, such actions would be inappropriate for her to perform in this setting. “Thank you…for not punishing me. I promise I will do anything it takes to succeed in this assignment!”
Androcon lowered the scepter and said, “Now, you and my Queen shall prepare you for your next assignment. It is very important. In fact, it is one of the most important assignments of the entire summer. It will be key to the strengthening and the success of my Temple. Failure, unlike with Dr. Moynihan, is NOT an option. Now, go to the Room of Preparation and await your assignment. Rise!”
Heather slowly rose and backed out of the room as commanded. Androcon slowly turned toward Kelly and said, “Perhaps we were too easy on her. A whole summer of withdrawn desire might have been appropriate for her.”
Kelly shook her head in disagreement. “No, for a young woman like her, a summer of no males finding her desirable would destroy her for future use. Besides, our sources have found an easier, weaker link in that department. I have already sent a new succubus to secure all that we will need. We need Heather to reel in the biggest fish in our sea.”
“Of course, my Dear, you are correct. Go now and prepare her. “ Androcon smiled as he walked out of the room. She had much to do, and he was required to meet with Machlu soon to report on his progress. Kelly smiled as he left. She turned to the door and followed Heather, knowing already how to prepare her student for her task.
Chadwick Cadmus Colson, III stretched as he sat behind the large mahogany desk in his office. He looked around at everything there, once again enjoying the sight of it all. 15 years as president of Viscount University definitely had its perks and rewards. Not bad for a geeky looking kid that had entered the college as a freshman all those years back. Taking a major in Economics and Business Administration certainly did little to reverse that image long ago. Now, after putting in his time as an undergrad, then a grad student, followed up with a successful stint at a rival college as a professor and academic dean, here he was.
He had taken the position after a scandalous term in office by his predecessor, caught stealing funds from the ‘old and grateful alumnae.’ They desperately needed a name that would regain the trust of the alumae, the faculty, and the board. Given his success at the dreaded rival across town, his reputation as an administrator, and the chance to steal a rising star back, he was an obvious choice. Knowing this, he had negotiated shrewdly to get all that he wanted. He smiles as he looked around, never being bored with the sight of it all.
It had not been easy, mind you, to return Viscount to its glorious reputation of old, but a clever plan of marketing, recruitment of faculty and athletic coaches, and the return of an ‘old school’ setting had won everyone back in five years. His reward now was pretty much a lifetime position at the university. A place that had changed his life and path forever. All with the chance meeting of Tracy Fugate.
Tracy had been a student in the microeconomics class he assisted in during his first semester as a grad student. It was one of the general Ed requirements for her major. She had been struggling with some of the concepts at the beginning and came up to him at the end of the discussion group he was leading on Thursday afternoons. She slowly approached his desk after the rest of the class left, and Chadwick could not take his eyes off of her. She acted so sweet and innocent as she explained how she ‘just couldn’t get’ the class and had to pass or she ‘would be cut from the program and her life would be ruined.’ All the while she was slowly leaning over the desk, her ample bosom fighting to stay contained inside her gingham blouse. When he asked her what her major was, she smiled, slightly giggles and “Home Ec.” Of course back then, Home Economics was considered a more serious major than what it was now. Most persons graduating with that degree went on to either run catering companies or work for different food or baking supply companies. The remainder usually didn’t graduate but did end up with their Master’s in Relationship Sciences, or “Mrs.” Degree from marrying some fine, usually rich, graduating senior or at least one from a good family. Chadwick wasn’t sure which track she was on, but sure wished his family was more ‘well to do’ than it was after seeing her.
Every part of her figure was as picture perfect as a guy’s daydream could be. And as she slowly slid to sit on the near corner of his desk, every curve was there to review. He offered to take some time right there to help explain some items from the class that week, but she declined saying she had another class across campus to hurry to and asked if she could ‘get together’ with him later that night for some ‘extra assistance.’ Chadwick knew exactly what that meant. He wasn’t naïve enough to think it was just some tutoring time that was being requested. That was the current ‘codeword’ on campus for the exchange of grades for sexual favors. He, of course, knew that the exchange happened often, but this was his first offer ever. And such a vixen to boot. One long slow glance upwards from her feet to her face was all he needed. Every part of her was flawless. Ethics or no ethics, he had to have her. He gave her his address and she offered to come over at 8 pm that night. He felt that tell-tale tightening in his chest and his pants as she slowly turned and left, the slow hypnotic sway of her hips under those tight jeans took away what little breath he had left.
She arrived as promised that night in the same outfit she had worn to class, except now the blouse was tied off very high on her belly. In fact, it was just under her breasts. They settled on the couch and she caught him by surprise as she got out her notes and text books and asked some questions from the material in class that week. As she did, she scooted closer and closer to him, not bothering to make any adjustments to her blouse at anytime. She seemed to smile as Chadwick did everything he could to focus on the material as his eyes were all over her curves and legs. It was as if she was enjoying toying with him, teasing him along to see how much he could take.
After an eternal feeling 20 minutes, she closed her book and put her notes away. “Well, I must commend you for your patience, Chadwick Colson, or may I call you Chad?” she inquired. He silently nodded yes as she continued, “My friends at the sorority house told me that guys in this exchange are all over you as soon as you get in the door. Since you’ve shown such restraint, you get a reward.” She slowly stood up, bending at the waist as she did to give him a very up close very of her cleave that had almost fallen out of her blouse. She picked up her purse and book bag to move them to the far side of the couch, giving him a perfect view of how tightly her jeans clung to her thighs and perfectly formed butt. Finally, she slowly sat up straight, turned to face him, and slowly moved into a sitting position on his lap. “Now, I’m all yours. Do anything you like. Anything at all…” she softly whispered to him, with a smile that seemed so innocent, yet so naughty at the same time.
He looked straight into her eyes and mouthed the words, “For Real?” She slowly nodded her head “Yes” and reached down to slowly undo the knot on her blouse. “All make things easier for you to start,” she purred and winked.
He placed his hands on her hips, hidden under the fallen sides of her gingham blouse. “There is something I’ve always liked to do. Not many’ll let me. But, you said I could…” As he finished speaking, he couldn’t hold back any longer. With his fingers spread out, he began to slowly stroke and wiggle his fingers all over her warm, taut tummy. She instantly shrieked into giggles and laughter, shaking and squirming all over his lap. To his shock and amazement, she did nothing to stop him. He kept it up, watching her entire torso shake and move. It was a glorious sight to him as she kept wiggling, giggling, and jiggling without making a move to stop him.
After a few minutes, he stopped. He looked her over. Her hair was now disheveled and all over the place on her head and face. Her blouse had slid off her left shoulder, with both breasts open to view. After staring at them a few seconds, he looked up and saw a very aroused, erotic smile on her face. “Why did you stop?” she asked between deep breaths. “That felt soooo good, so wonderful…been ages since someone gave me such a good ticklin’.”
“You…you liked it? Want more?” Chad asked, in shock. No girl whose belly he had ever played with like that ever asked for more. Not one. Ever. And now, here was this near goddess of a coed, actually asking for more?
“Oh yes,” she replied as she stood again, slowly removing her blouse before sitting back on his lap, now topless before him. “Nothing makes me hotter or want it more. Promise to work those fingers like that on me all over, and I’ll be here as often as I can, even after this semester is done!” She leaned into him, her breasts touching against his T-shirt as she whispered in his right ear, “and I’m ticklish in way more places than just my belly.” She took his hands and placed his fingers on her upper belly, the undercurves of her breasts barely touching the backs of his hands and told him, “Please. Now that you’ve started, you’re not gonna leave me all untickled, hot and bothered now, are you?”
Chad’s and Tracy’s relationship lasted the remaining three years she attended Viscount University. What started as an illicit swap blossomed into a wonderfully torrid love affair between the two of them. He quickly found out that her innocent looks and acts were just and act. “After all,” she told him once, “the Home Ec department is nothing more than the School of Stitchin’, Stewin’ and Screwin’.” Her wild streak caused her to show up at classes he taught, whether she was in them or not. Sometimes she would sit or pose in the back wearing and doing things to tease his libido like crazy. Sometimes, she would do nothing, which drove him crazier. She loved sneaking into his office area and waiting for him there, sometimes on his desk. Other times she would hide under his desk, staying there as he worked with others or talked with fellow grad students, doing things and flashing him in ways that were indescribable. The bolder she got, the more she and he loved it.
The fateful day came when she graduated with her major in Home Economics and a minor in Finance, and he completed his doctorate. Early on that year, they realized their relationship would soon come to an end. She was from a high social class family, and he had nothing to offer but a low teaching salary income. They had grown apart some that year, as it became apparent that the relationship was lust and not love. The day after graduation, they went off together out of town for a last, final weekend long fling. Then, they parted mutually, promising not to chase each other down. Free to live their lives as they chose. If, after 3 years, they had no one in their lives, he would find her and they would decide if they should re-heat the embers.
But, Chad saw an engagement announcement twelve months later in the newspaper declaring her upcoming wedding with Jason Royce, whose father was CEO of the financial giant, Medean National. Chad was happy for her and hoped all would go well with her, as it eventually did for him.
He fell in love with and married Charlotte, a fellow instructor from the Art Department. They had a great life until her untimely death years ago in an automobile accident. On rare occasions, he would see and meet at different functions, like Homecoming or when the rival colleges played basketball. They would smile and chat cordially. When totally alone, they would reminisce. They never openly said it to each other, but they could tell by body language that the heat was still there but neither could risk relighting the flames. They would send each other what appeared to be ‘gag’ gifts to others on special occasions, but every one had a secret meaning. He reached up toward the desk and picked up the ostrich plume quill pen she sent him on his first day as president at Viscount. He remembered the seemingly harmless miniature ‘human hand’ back scratcher he had sent her the year after Jason had died. They each knew what they meant, and he treasured it dearly.
Chad put the quill back into its holder as he heard the door open. He smiled as one of the student interns walked in with a small stack of papers. One of the perks of his job was being able to select student interns to work in the Administration office. Ever since his wife’s death shortly after taking the position, he made sure most, if not all, were cream of the feminine crop. He mildly cursed the fact that since the Clinton presidency, it was not was easy to enjoy such perks of office anymore, but nothing could stop him from making the scenery as pleasing as possible. Besides, it was always a great help to have attractive coeds around when trying to bilk donations from wealthy old men.
But this was no standard, cute, young intern. Heather Royce carried in the stack of papers and placed them in the designated spot on the far left corner. He had chosen Heather for one of the intern positions by the request of Tracy. He was more than willing to make such a request happen. Heather’s major of sales and business administration fit, and she had indicated wanting to become involved in front office collegiate activities upon graduation. What better way to make the contacts she would need?
Besides, he had other personal reasons. Heather looked so much like Tracy, it was scary. Call him old and foolish, call him crazy. Call him a dirty old man. He didn’t care. Seeing Heather made him think of Tracy. He had been years without such a relationship now, so why not vicariously remember some of the best days of his past?
It was Friday afternoon, which meant it was a ‘casual dress’ day. He wasn’t in a suit and tie, but could quickly toss on a tie and grab one of the spare blazers he kept in the office if an important visitor came to call. The employees out front were always business casual. Heather today had on a brief, but appropriate black denim skirt, and a form-fitting white cardigan-like sweater over some sort of black top visible at the “V” where the sweater sides met. At the center was a brass-colored buckle. It looked fantastic on her, as most everything she wore did.
Once the papers were set down, she told him, “Nothing much, just the standard reports from the Finance Committee for the last semester.” She moved to the center of the desk and leaned over slightly. “It’s all quiet out there today. Carly has already left for the day to go flirt with Dr. Chuck. Do you want me to stay at the desk or can I stay in here and flirt with you?” “Flirting” was a slang term in the office for staying in the room to chat. It was spawned from a complaint letter some student’s mother wrote complaining that all the interns did all day was stand around and flirt with everyone. The joke had stuck around for over a year and they all had fun with it. On occasion, Heather or Carly, another intern, would come in and playfully ‘pose’ as they brought in papers or did filing in his office. Not that he minded. If only they knew just how much he enjoyed their playful banter.
“Go ahead. I could use some flirting at my advanced age,” he replied. “Have a seat!” He told her, pointing to one of the plush chairs in the room. They chatted often during quiet days at the office. Heather knew that he and her mother had a relationship in college, but never gave any details. Partly out of deference to her mother, but mostly he didn’t want word to get out to others of how wild his graduate student days had been. Sure it was thirty-plus years ago, but if someone wanted to bad enough they could create a stink about it. He did not want to risk it at this point. Instead of taking a chair, she slowly moved to the right hand corner on his side of the desk. He looked at her in a confused manner. This was not normal for her. “What’s this? Feeling a bit like the ingénue? Or is someone feeling her muliebrity this afternoon?”
Heather slowly adjusted her position and did a long slow cross of her legs. “As I said, I just feel like flirting. Besides, why not practice here where I’m safe? With you I can practice my feminine wiles, you can critique me, and then I can use them on some poor unsuspecting guy tomorrow night. What do you think? Do I have the legs for it?” she grinned. She adjusted her position but not her skirt, most of her long, sleek legs showing. Chad had often let the girls get away with outfits that pushed the limits on Fridays, and their playful flirting was fun for all of them. He passed it off as more of the same.
“Oh, I think you have more than the legs for it,” he replied. He started to reach for the stack of papers, but instead Heather grabbed the top of the stack first, slowly turned and handed them to him, bending at the waist enough for him to see how well her top was filled. How many times had Tracy done that time him? Countless times for sure, and parts of his anatomy were enjoying it now as much as he did then. Her behavior at the moment was so much like Tracy’s it was scary, as if someone had rolled back time and he WAS back in his grad student days. “So, where are you going tonight that makes you need to think you need to improve your flirting skills?” he asked. “As if you need any help there,” he thought to himself.
“Some of us have been invited to a big party at one of the country clubs. Some ‘so and so’ is getting hitched and you never know when you might be able to snag a rich young groomsman or usher. Or,” she deadpanned out, “ a divorced or widowed rich daddy or uncle.”
He wondered how serious she actually was. “Oldies? That doesn’t seem your style, Heather,” was all he could say. “You always told me the young bucks were your style.”
“I don’t know. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve started to have a change in what appeals to me,” she replied. “Maybe I’ve been hanging around you too much, but lately the idea of an older, experienced man sounds so inviting. Someone with plenty of experience that could teach me a thing or two. Someone in a powerful position. Kissinger was right. Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac. I’m thinking it might be fun to try a least once. Maybe I could find me a nice ripe sugar daddy to take care of me?”
“You, a kept woman? I find it hard to believe you sinking to that level. You’d make a great trophy wife for someone though, that’s for sure.” Chad was dead serious as he looked at her. He had seen more than one wealthy donator look her up and down, assessing her potential. He watched her as she flexed her feet and toes. Her leather sandals her barely clinging to her bare feet as she sat there. Her freshly pedicured toes flashed a cute shade of purple polish that was difficult to ignore. “So tell me, you shameless hussy, anything happen to create this hunger for more mature men in your diet?”
“Started a couple of weeks ago to be honest when I went home for the weekend to visit Momma,” she answered.
“How’s that? She dating someone that is throwing you into some massive jealous reaction?” Chad doubted that, but since Jason’s death, he had not heard much about her. Once Heather finished school, he had mulled over trying to get Tracy back into his life. So, he decided to fish for some information. “What is she up to these days?”
Heather smiled as she replied, “Oh, she’s been a good girl. Perhaps too good, if you know what I mean. She rarely goes out much. So, that Saturday night we went out and I got her a little tipsy. I gave her enough wine to relax her mind and tongue, and boy did she talk.“ Heather smiled as she continued, “I tried to get her to tell me about what’s she’s been doing for fun since Daddy’s death, and do you know what she talked about instead? Her college days with you, ‘Chaddy,’”
Chadwick was startled. Only Tracy had been allowed to call him that and it rolled off her tongue just like it had her mother’s. “How…how much did she tell you?” He slowly stammered out. How much of the past did Tracy tell her daughter?
“Oh, she told me quite a bit. That first ‘study night.’ All those times in your office. Her attempts to tease and distract you in class. I didn’t know my Momma was so wild in school. And I thought I got crazy at times. You two were quite an item, according to her. She even moaned over how much better you were than Daddy in the ‘you-know-what’ department, as she said. So, tell me the truth. Was Momma the best you ever had? Was she as good for you as you seemed to have been for her?” Heather leaned forward as she spoke, as if she was the cop interrogating him for some confession or evidence.
Chadwick swallowed silently before responding, considering his words carefully. “Tracy, your mother, was my first. No one else has ever compared to her. Not in looks, figure, personality, desire, or ability to fulfill desire. There’ll be, most likely, no one like her.” He spoke softly, wanting to honor her yet be honest enough to hopefully satisfy her curiosity and move on. The look in her eyes seemed less and less of curiosity and more of the same gleam that shown in Tracy’s eyes when she had ‘the itch that must be scratched.’
“Maybe you and she should hook back up again. I’m sure she’d go for it, the way she was talking about you. I told her she ought to come up and see you sometime in your new office. I asked her what she would do if she did. She told me she would do something like this.” As she spoke, she let her sandals fall off her feet. Chadwick quickly decided he was not going to play games the rest of the afternoon with Heather and reached down to pick up the sandals to hand them back to her and tell her to go back to her desk. When he looked up, he was caught totally by surprise by what he saw next. By the time he had looked up to hand the sandals back to her, Heather has already removed the cardigan sweater, revealing that the top under it was merely a small black bandeau top. The only thing more devastating that the bust line it revealed was the large amount of smooth, flat, sexy belly from the hip to just below her breasts. Flashbacks of all those afternoons and evenings at the desk, Tracy sitting there, silently daring him to play with and tickle her. “Heather, I don’t know what kind of games you are trying to play, but…”
Heather interrupted him quickly, “Games? Who said I’m playing games. I’m warning you about what Momma would do if she came to visit you in your office. I mean, she even told me what all those ‘innocent’ little gifts the two of you would send each other meant.” She picked up the ostrich plume quill pen and slowly, provocatively waved it in the air between him and her. Then, she slowly drew it across her torso, hitting her belly and above her top. “Ohhh, I like the feel of this, so soft…so tickly. I bet this would feel good all over me.” She winked as she watched Chadwick’s eyes, no longer on hers but following the plume. She slowly moved it all over her torso again, making sure to giggle in just the right way.
“Please, Tr-Heather. Don’t do this. You don’t know what kind of fire you’re playing with.” Chadwick’s eyes were desperate as he could not stop watching her use the plume on herself. Every time he looked at her face, he saw Tracy. It was like that first night, only stronger. Heather saw his hunger growing. She uncrossed her legs and slowly stroked her right foot along the top of his left thigh. She could see the bulge, her target sitting there waiting for her. She winked slyly at him as she did and in a teasing voice asked, “You’d love to be the one using the quill, wouldn’t you?”
“No…can’t let you do this to me.” He moaned as he watched her. Suddenly, he felt her foot trailing up his thigh. He knew where she was going and had to stop her. He quickly grabbed her foot by the ankle, lifting it up and holding it up in the air. Heather lost her balance and had to stop with the quill. “I realize…that this is all fun and games to you. But to men…men like me…it is not a game.” He held the ankle tight as she tried to pull it free. He lifted it up higher, causing her to lose more balance. She tried to use the left foot to get her balance back and push herself back in balance. Instead, Chadwick snatched the other foot, lifting it next to its mate. This caused her to scoot further forward on the desk. Chadwick was then stunned when he looked back at her. He had a perfect view up her skirt, discovering that she was bottomless under it, just like Tracy always was. It made it stop as he did a double take at the limited view he had.
Heather tried to get back control of the situation. “I hope you like the view. I can sit on your lap if you want a real trip down memory lane…” she cooed, rocking her hips a little for some distracting emphasis. She smiled as he watched her movements. She flexed and wiggled her toes as she rocked again, seeing if she could get her feet free.
As she pulled, Chadwick instead gripped them tighter. He moved closer, sliding her feet between his legs. Now her skirt was pulled back down and no longer distracting him. “Now, you need to start behaving like a good girl. Now, are you gonna behave or do I have to punish you?”
Heather now had fear in her eyes as she desperately pulled with her legs to free her feet. “Please, let my feet go. I’ll do anything you like, just let my feet go.” The fear was growing in her voice. Chadwick could sense it as she was doing everything she could to pull them free.
“What’s wrong? Not like being in control? Or is more like, I have something that is a wicked weak link in your armor?” As he spoke, he spidered his fingers in the air. The sight caused her eyes to go wider then before. It was definitely fear.
“Please, don’t tickle my feet. I can’t handle it. You don’t know what it does to me. You…you really don’t want to tickle them, trust me…” she quickly spurt out. A little too quickly.
“I think I have you where I want you,” he coolly replied. He slowly ran four fingers up and down her soles. They felt smooth as silk as he stroked them. Heather instantly was in giggles as he slowly moved his fingertips all over her helpless feet. Now Chadwick was the one with the powerful grin on his face.
“Plehehheheeheeheese…stahhahahahap…I’ll lose ihihihiht…not my feeeheeheeheeheet!” she cried out between giggles.
Chadwick kept it up, anticipating her breaking soon. Seemed her feet were
beyond normal ticklishness and would be her downfall. He almost hated doing this to her, but any action with her would be suicide to him professionally. “So, what are you going to do now? Put on your sweater and be a good girl now?” He kept it up, even harder to emphasize the point.
Suddenly, Heather’s giggles became a deep throaty laugh. “Good girl? Not when I’m having such a good time being bad…” she gleefully replied. “I’m my mother’s daughter. Oh gawd, you’ve made me so horny now I can’t control it anymore. I told you I’d lose it!” she winked as she laughed and spoke. “Oh, that feels so good. Don’t stop!” Chadwick stopped, totally stunned now. She had to bluffing. Had to be. “I can tell you want to. ‘Someone is giving you away,” she teased, nodding toward the growing lump in his pants.
She kept up the pressure. “I know you want to play with my belly. Tickle my tummy. Run that large plume all over my torso. Let me make it easier for you,” she softly told him as she grasped her top on either side at the bottom. She slowly started to pull it up, revealing the undercurves of both breasts. Chad was so stunned that he relaxed the grip on her legs, allowing her to slowly pull them free. “Tell me,” she cooed, “do you want them? Wanna tickle my entire torso all over? Wanna see how much ‘Like Momma, Like Daughter’ I really am? Just say the word, Chaddy…”
Chadwick was frozen in place, his eyes all over her bared belly and the bandeau top, with Heather slowly pulling it up further, showing more of the underside of her tempting pair. She picked up the plume and waved in the air over her, making sure it didn’t touch her. His mind was flipping back and forth, half the time seeing Heather, the other half seeing Tracy there on the desk. “Please, leave that top on. Don’t you dare go topless on me,” he begged. He could see the plume moving, tempting him, drawing him in.
Heather smiled, and coyly replied, “What, you mean you don’t want me to do…this?” She grasped her top and slowly, carefully pulled it off. Her impressive pair bounced as she did, and Chadwick’s eyes bounced along with them. Then, she took her feet and slowly rubbed them up and down the tops of his thighs, getting as close to his loins has she could. She leaned forward, allowing her breasts to dangle freely before his eyes. Then, she whispered the words, "tá mian fholaithe or rúnda aige.” When she did, he saw a circle appear at the top of her cleave. In the circle was a symbol of a spear and a feather, crossing near the center. “If you want me, to tickle me, and have me, then all you have to do is join us. I know of a group that can give you all the sex you want. All the ticklish babes you want. No risk, as often as you want. You can even have me, anytime you want. “ She cupped her breasts to push them closer to him. “Come and join me in the Temple of Androcon. But if you don't, I am not allowed to let you enjoy all this..." She released her breasts and picked up her skirt at the hem, slowly pulling it upward.
Chadwick tried to conceal a moan as she scooted closer to him. Heather began to ripple her stomach. Tracy had told her it was the one sure way to break him. All those wine glasses were paying off as she watched him reach for the plume. "I must know...must find out...Tracy forgive me..." was all she could hear as he picked up the feather.
"Once you touch me with it, you belong to us, and Androcon. And, you'll never go without again. All we ask is that you help us. Protect us. Serve us. And all of me, and any others you want, will be yours." She whispered. All he could do was nod in silent agreement, his hunger silencing any ethical reserve he had left. She reached out and unbuttoned his shirt. She kissed her fingertip and touched the mark on her chest. Next, she touched his chest between the nipples. When she did, the same symbol now appeared on his chest. She smiled. "Now, you are ours. And I...am yours!"
He nodded and placed the feather on the desk. Instantly, he dug his fingers into her belly. Heather was pleasantly surprised and laughed loudly, sliding onto his lap. She pressed her breasts against him. It didn't matter how far they went now. She had won him to the temple!
She looked up and saw the image of Androcon looking at her. He was smiling large and spoke into her mind. "Excellent job, my Heather. I knew you would not fail me. Come to the temple grounds tonight and there will be the reward promised you." She smiled at the thought of the young men that would be in the room begging for her tonight. She was a tease, a seducer, a succubus. She would go on to other campuses and help temples grow there for her master. For Androcon.
Androcon laughed as he watched the helpless college president succumb to the temptation that he had been filling the unsuspecting man's mind with for a month. As Chadwick picked up the feather plume and ran it all over Heather's torso, he took in the power that flowed from the sexual excitement of both. He would remain there until they completed the act, to absorb it all. Then, he would enter the Hall of Meeting and inform the entire Unseelie court of this latest conquest. With the college president in his grasp, Androcon, through professor McTalon, could do anything he wanted. Now, his plans could move full forward.
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